


Thy Bidding

by dovahfiin



Category: Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:03:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovahfiin/pseuds/dovahfiin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this Alternate Universe work, Anakin Skywalker has been the duplicitous follower of both Obi Wan Kenobi and Darth Sidious since winning his freedom on Tatooine. </p><p>The day comes all too soon when Anakin must choose his master, and the events which unfold set the stage for the dark side's perfect, unholy seduction. Betrayal is the greatest motivator, and young Skywalker discovers that the path of the Chosen One is long and unpredictable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coruscant's Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> This is the epic I've been wanting to write for some time now. I'm horribly excited about it and hope that you all enjoy my realization of a grittier version of Anakin Skywalker's life.
> 
> Edit: Edits will be ongoing. I'm messing with the work summary, too.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin returns from a fateful battle against Asajj Ventress on Yavin 4. In spite of his exhaustion and war-weariness, he reports his progress to a stoic Jedi Council. Yoda conjures the memory of a long-forgotten friend to aid him in a discernment process toward promoting Anakin to Jedi Master. . .

Anakin Skywalker hesitated in front of the entrance to the Temple, attempting to quell the negative emotions which had been slowly roiling inside of his belly since the duel with Ventress two standard days ago. It didn't seem fair that after all he had accomplished, the Council still did not trust him. Not that they should; he was an apprentice to the most adept Sith Lord since Darth Bane, but in order to secure the new Empire he had to infiltrate the Jedi Council itself. That wouldn't be possible without somehow gaining their trust, but so far every opportunity had presented itself to no avail; Anakin had neutralized threats, revealed hidden agendas and plots to undermine the Senate and its public servants, and still the Council did not grant him the title of Master and the resulting seat on its most sacred board. 

He winced, the pain from a gash across his eye pulling him back into the present moment. Within a few minutes, he had won control over his conflicting emotions and entered the Jedi Temple, his dark brown robe billowing behind him as he made his way to Obi Wan's quarters. 

The Jedi Master was meditating, though a portion of his mind remained open and vigilant. He had been expecting his padawan's return, and Anakin basked in the subsequent waves of anticipation. They bordered on the obscene, these feelings Kenobi had for his apprentice; many times Anakin had sensed conflict in the middle-aged Knight; the sort of doom only a man in love with someone he ought not be in love with could feel. Anakin feasted upon his trepidation, gorging on the frustration which came whenever he caught Kenobi's eyes falling down his neckline or coursing down the length of his back. Anakin exploited these things, though his master never knew. It allowed him to access the dark side in a way not even Sidious could; desire was the dark side's back door, and Skywalker used it as his own exclusive entrance.

Kenobi's eyes fluttered open, a smile playing across his mouth. Anakin whetted his lips, grinning in reply.

"Anakin, it is good to see you have arrived safely." 

"Thank you, Master."

Kenobi knew how the young Jedi despised space travel when he was not at the helm; the journey to Coruscant from Yavin 4 was not inconsequential. Obi Wan couldn't help noticing the growing dark bags haloing Anakin's eyes.

Obi Wan rose from his cross legged position, motioning for Skywalker to sit at the table opposite him. 

"What have you to report?"

"Asajj Ventress has been neutralized."

"I take it she escaped." Anakin rolled his eyes.

"I made sure that she will not make any additional brazen moves against the Republic, Master." A seconds-long vision of Ventress' body entangled in the electrical wiring, the stench of sizzling flesh filled his nostrils assaulted him as he gave his report. Kenobi's eyes narrowed as Skywalker explained his actions, attempting to hide his disdain for the lesser Sith acolyte. 

"The Council will not approve of how you handled this, Anakin. It sounds as though you acted with vengeance in mind."

"I try to practice what you have taught me in such circumstances, Master. I have failed you."

Kenobi nodded soberly, stroking his immaculately groomed beard. Anakin moved closer to his master, a wave of Corellian palm butter reaching his nostrils - the simple scent of the Jedi. Obi Wan turned to lecture Anakin, but no words came. 

"She hurt you."

"It doesn't bother me, Master."

"A Sith acolyte is not to be trifled with, Anakin. You should go get it treated at the Med Center after making your report to the Council."

"Yes, Master." 

"Oh, and you have also been summoned by the Chancellor. Go to 500 Republica when that ghastly slash has been mended."

"Yes, Master."

"You are dismissed, Anakin."

Skywalker bowed low before turning to leave. He felt Kenobi's desire and concern underneath the patronizing lecture about the Council fading with each step he took away from his Master. Typically after returning from a mission, they would spend the evening together; perhaps several stories below their usual dwelling places, they would join their bruised and war-torn bodies in the kind of primordial meeting which the Jedi forbade. In many ways, it was the only time during which Anakin felt connected to the Light, but those couplings had become increasingly rare as the Clone Wars raged on. 

After his duel with Ventress, his alliance with the Dark Side had been solidified against his own wishes. It dismayed and delighted at the same time, though mostly he looked forward to the day when he wouldn't have to hide anymore. Regardless, he would choose a side and that would be that. Of course, it wasn't as cut and dry - there would be consequences for either choice, but not even his powers of foresight could be coaxed that far out.

A sudden vision of tight brown curls and taut white skin flashed in his mind's eye as he rounded the corner to the last promenade before reaching the Council chambers. Even the Force itself pushed him toward her; Amidala was the one who had suggested their private exchange of vows by the lake on Naboo, but Anakin had wanted to marry her. Their child was a gift from the Great Mystery itself, but he had since learned that there were concurrent and parallel paths to his destiny. 

Master Yoda cast a glare that could have instantly tamed a rancor upon the wary visage of the Chosen One. He smiled slightly, a gesture which was laced with sadness. Skywalker looked tired, and it was obvious that his injuries from his encounter with Asajj Ventress had gone untreated.

"Come to deliver your report have you?" 

"Yes, Master. Asajj Ventress has been neutralized as a threat to the Republic. I engaged her in a brief duel which ended in profound injuries on her part. She is receiving medical care following that encounter, and will be transferred to the prison on world when she is healthy enough to stand trial."

Yoda nodded soberly. "Anything else to say have you, young Skywalker?"

"No, Master Yoda."

"Dismissed you are."

Once again, the young Jedi bowed and took his leave. Yoda turned to regard his colleague and trusted friend Master Windu, who was still scowling as if Skywalker were still present.

"Believe him you do not?"

"No. He is conflicted, though about what I cannot say."

"Defeated Ventress he did. Matters not, do his methods. War this is."

"I disagree. If he uses vengeance and anger as his allies, he will open himself up to fall to the Dark Side."

Yoda stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Indeed."

Windu arose from hit seat, sighing heavily. "I will go meditate on this. Let us reconvene when we have each reached a conclusion."

"Join you in solitude, I shall; his Master's counsel on this matter shall I keep."

Windu looked down toward the floor before nodding slowly, wordlessly bowing and leaving the Jedi Master to his thoughts. If young Skywalker was to serve on the Council, the next three days' meditation would reveal a decision. As the current of the Force danced around him, Yoda closed his eyes and quieted his own troubled thoughts. Reaching deeply into the Void, he sought out one Force essence in particular.

"Qui Gon", he whispered. The Void replied in kind, and the two communed with one another.


	2. Code of the Sith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidious is thrilled at how easily everything is moving forward save for one elusive, maddening piece of his otherwise simple puzzle. Anakin wrestles with his conscience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to originally, but I devoted this entire chapter to developing the tension between Palpatine/Sidious and Anakin/Vader. There are so many facets of their relationship; even the novelizations point toward something more tender the two men share. 
> 
> I do use Palpatine/Darth Sidious and Anakin/Darth Vader interchangeably, and I do this because I want there to be a disconnect between who they're pretending to be and who they really are. I want there to be a sense that Anakin doesn't know where Vader begins; same with Palpatine. Everything else I'll leave to your own interpretation.

Ventress had been silenced; he could feel her rippling fear and self-doubt the young acolyte was known for the moment Anakin struck the felling blow. She would crawl back to Tyranus, and their melodrama would continue. This would have annoyed him had he not ordered Anakin specifically not to kill her; Tyranus would pay dearly for his double-crossing. The elder Serenno noble had outlived his purpose and was now no more significant than a Nubian worm crawling in the dirt. With Asajj alive and wounded both in body and spirit, Palpatine didn't even feel the need to call upon the dark side to show him what his next move was.

He rose from his desk, waving away the aids and Imperial Guard who were always stationed in his quarters. They wordlessly and obediently departed; Palpatine's control of their minds was absolute. He hadn't even needed to wave his hand, just a slight nudge with the Force would have sufficed, but appearances must be kept. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his silvered hair before the vast panoramic window which allowed him a full view of Coruscant's bustling tableau. In spite of his true identity and what would come to pass, he loved the city and cherished the moments when he was able to set aside his chancellorship to simply behold the city as it was - how it would be for only so long.

He felt Anakin's presence before the doors parted and the tall, handsome young Sith entered. Perhaps a bit of self-satisfaction laced with irritation; but with whom? Palpatine did not turn as Anakin approached the sprawling red durasteel desk. Skywalker genuflected, resting his organic hand on his knee while keeping the prosthetic Sidious so strongly disliked hidden under his voluminous robe. He averted his eyes, wanting to skim the outline of the elder Sith's slight but supple frame but settling for a small black fleck on the otherwise crimson carpet.

"What is thy bidding, my Master?" A few beats of silence greeted Anakin's query. Then, Palpatine turned around. His robes rustled with each step, and it seemed like a lifetime had passed before he was standing before Anakin.

The words were spoken slowly, with a tenderness Skywalker had not yet picked up on: "Rise, my apprentice." Skywalker did as he was bade, assuming a military parade rest. Palpatine smiled.

"Don't say it - Asajj Ventress has been captured."

"Yes, Master." He looked crestfallen at Sidious' guess, but remained silent.

"Good. Is she badly wounded?"

"Badly enough that her injuries warranted several kolto treatments and a prosthetic leg."

"Excellent. By the time she returns to Tyranus she'll be useless to him. Vengeance will swiftly follow. Well done, my young apprentice."

Palpatine had lately substituted much of his singular language for 'us' and 'we', a change which hadn't escaped Anakin's notice. Until now, as they stood almost nose to nose, the younger Sith had regarded the speech patterns as nothing more than a slip up. Something in the Chancellor's pale blue eyes told him that the man did not make mistakes.

Palpatine patted Anakin's shoulder, squeezing the tight muscles with a surprisingly strong grip. Offering another wan smile, he crossed back over to the panoramic window, Anakin following close behind. They stood together for another long moment of inordinate silence, causing Skywalker to shift his weight uncomfortably.

Their friendship had always been odd. When the boy was first brought to Coruscant it became painfully obvious that the cold-hearted Jedi had no interest in helping the Forceful young slave acclimate to his new environment. Qui Gon had approached the then-senator (a fact not even Yoda for all his sleuthing had ever discovered) and asked him to watch over Anakin. They had parted company that day in a way which only two men who understood each other completely could. When it came to Jinn, the veil of the Force was thin; Palpatine had seen in him then a desire to fulfill the prophecy regardless of what it meant for the Jedi - his faith in the Great Mystery superceded his faith in his own Order - and that was remarkable to Sidious even then. It restored some of his lost respect for the Jedi, though their continuing treatment of Anakin proved a frustrating counterbalance to Qui Gon's wisdom. And so the Chancellor befriended the young Jedi prodigy, guiding him through adolescence and providing a shoulder to cry on when necessary. Then, right before the beginning of the Clone Wars, he'd made his move; in drunken stupor, Anakin had come to him seeking a specific sort of comfort; something not even pretty little Padme could afford him. Palpatine took that opportunity to reveal himself, and Anakin had not shied away.

Then again, perhaps that is what he had been seeking that night; Palpatine smiled when he recalled that they had not joined their flesh that evening.

"On what vast and puzzling subjects is your mind toiling over, Lord Vader?"

Anakin pulled on the gauntlet covering his prosthetic. "After Ventress was taken away, I meditated in one of the ancient Massassi temples."

"And?"

"I am greatly conflicted. I - I need to know, my Master. What will become of the Jedi when your plans come to pass?" It was a clumsy question, but given the unkempt appearance and exhaustion emanating from his apprentice, Sidious found himself sighing and steeling himself to offer a wise explanation.

"You care for Yoda and the Council? After everything they've done to you?"

"I care for all those who have helped me in some way."

Sidious turned and looked at Skywalker. His sharp, brooding features caused a heated stirring somewhere on the edge of Sidious' awareness.

"Remember who has been here for you since the beginning, Vader. Their arrogance and coldness will be their undoing - they have sealed their own fate. We must be patient; their ultimate demise is only known to the Force."

The answer, convoluted though it was, glimmered with enough truth to give the younger man pause. Sidious couldn't even know the full extent of the future, as the Mystery only shows a handful of many trillions of possible outcomes. However, Anakin had skewed events in favor of Sidious' desires when he captured Ventress; getting closer to Tyranus and the Trade Federation meant finally moving forward. If everything else was handled as beautifully as this, the first Galactic Empire would become a reality far sooner than anticipated.

"You are quiet today, Master."

Sidious chuckled, his voice an undulating sea of shimmersilk. "Indeed, Anakin. I'm greatly pleased with your recent actions and see them as a means to our glorious end. My outlook is vastly improved and I have been thinking on the promise of peace to come." Skywalker couldn't help but notice that Palpatine's voice had become heavy with emotion; the Senate's transformation into an Imperial force was a subject of great pride for the older man. Reestablishing a Sith empire on the Rule of Two was a dream long held and cherished by Palpatine, and to be so close was intoxicating. Anakin shared that sentiment, though perhaps on a much smaller scale; most of his thoughts were also sliced by musings over what would happen to the Jedi; namely, Obi Wan.

"Have you had any success in infiltrating the Jedi Council?"

"They are meditating on my admittance now, Master." Palpatine nodded, his mouth pursed in annoyance.

"There may be a way to expedite their decision. I could force their hand by appointing you to be my personal liason to the Jedi."

Anakin's eyebrows raised and he smiled in spite of himself. Quickly gaining his composure, he looked down to the lush carpet once again. "It would be an honor, my Lord."

"Do not be so downtrodden, my boy. You deserve to revel in your accomplishments; I am not one of your stoic Jedi masters."

Anakin had never experienced true tenderness in his life. Something which the Jedi refused to acknowledge was the need for love, affection, and closeness. Sidious had always kept his distance, but found that impossible and unnecessary now. The Weathernet had been programmed for rain at the stroke of 2000 hours; Sidious had wanted Anakin's homecoming to be perfect. He knew how the boy loved the rain after never experiencing it on his forsaken homeworld.

Still looking down at the floor, Anakin began to incant in the lower partial of his voice: "Peace is a lie; there is only passion."

"Yes", Sidious drew out. "Through passion, we gain strength."

"... through strength we gain power", Anakin finished.

"Through power we gain victory," Sidious groaned in that sub-glottal way he knew Vader liked.

"Through victory our chains are broken." Darth Vader was facing Palpatine now, his shoulders squared and the fury of his golden eyes burning in the dim light of the office like so many saber crystals in a dark cavern.

"The Force shall set us free." Palpatine was standing just under Anakin's nose, his hands balled into fists as he fought the urge to set himself hungrily upon his apprentice. He felt the currents of the Force shifting and boiling around them, folding over each other like waves on the Nubian sands where he had grown up. Before Palpatine could think to do or say anything else, Skywalker had taken his leave and, with a handful of long and purposeful strides, walked out of the office at 500 Republica before Darth Sidious had collected himself enough to dismiss him.

"Bastard", Palpatine muttered acidly. He turned back to the window and watched the rain fall and the sky darken until all he could see was his own reflection mottled by rapidly multiplying raindrops.


	3. A Golden Misstep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padme makes a mistake and runs to the only man left in the galaxy who will be able to help her. Sidious' dangerous game reaches a stalemate when, for the first time in decades, he makes his first mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to ship Amidala and Palpatine at first, but I think that it will end up compressing the already painful tensions between Obi Wan and Anakin for an explosive confrontation in later chapters. This also means that Palpatine has made his first mistake, one which could cost him his most valuable asset: Anakin. What will he do to earn Anakin's trust once more? It's going to be fun to decide.
> 
> Padme's kind of a whore, too. I dig it.

Yoda had silently meditated for nearly two days. Qui Gon had revealed much to him, including how to teach Obi Wan to call upon his Force signature in the future. To be true, there had not been much in the way of direction towards Anakin's admission to the Council, but what the Jedi Master had told Yoda served as enough evidence to convince him that the Chosen One was not ready - nor destined - to serve on the Council.

Windu, of course, had made up his mind long before Yoda emerged from his meditative state. Perhaps, Yoda thought, his compatriot had been wise not to waste time; there was no question. Skywalker wasn't ready -- and more than that, there was something amiss, some wandering quality neither of them could put their finger on. Something potentially sinister, even.

The two Jedi Masters were seated in the Council chambers, watching the clouds from the previous night's rain dissipate in a comfortable silence. Yoda inhaled slowly, choosing his words carefully before he address his colleague.

"Efficient it is not to focus on this problem, Master Windu."

The cross-looking Jedi Master raised an eyebrow. "'Efficient' is not the word I would use."

"Hung up on language we cannot become. Never-ending seem the Clone Wars; unimportant are Council admission decisions."

Windu nodded his agreement. "I can only hope that young Skywalker sees it that way, though judging by his recent lapses in judgment I cannot be sure. Let us proceed with caution."

"Divided we are about Skywalker's future. Unwise it is to place one Knight over the rest who reside in this temple."

"The dark side lives in him, Master Yoda. I can feel it."

"In your feelings place your trust, but forget you must not that the Republic Skywalker has saved more than once during these wars."

Windu stood quickly, his temper noticeably flaring. Yoda remained seated.

"I will not - cannot - look the other way any longer. With the Supreme Chancellor obtaining considerable amounts of influence and power, we cannot ignore a simultaneously growing threat in our own Order. I move to exile Skywalker."

"Accept your motion the Council will not as long as war there is." Yoda, for the expert control he exercised over his emotions, was having trouble quelling his frustration with Windu's insubordination.

"My leave I will take now, Master Windu."

"As you wish, Master Yoda."

As the two men parted, Yoda had trouble ignoring the creeping feeling that the hotheaded Jedi had been correct. Even so, there was no reason to exile Skywalker; but Yoda's meditations had also revealed a hidden and unfortunate truth. A truth which would ruin the lives of both Senator Padme Amidala and the noble Jed Knight if it came to light.

Yoda directed his hoverdisc toward the quarters of Obi Wan Kenobi. If anyone could get close enough to Anakin Skywalker in order to reveal this truth, it would be him.

___________________________________________________________________________

Padme was not Force sensitive, but even she could sense that Chancellor Palpatine had changed - and not for the better. He ran the senate like a slavetrader would an auction, with the refinement of a practiced diplomat and the intensity of a man who wanted more than his station could ever afford. Several conversations with Bail Organa had convinced the young Nubian senator that her old mentor was no longer the humble servant of the people, but a venomously ambitious manipulator. As she watched the impeccably dressed Chancellor give another rousing speech about diplomacy and peace in the galaxy, she noticed the way his eyes appeared sunken and his features more drawn than ever. He had always been a small man, but he looked as though he had grown even thinner as his tenure wore on. The words he spoke did not register as her heart sank, beholding a man she had respected and loved.

"I'm going to talk to him" she whispered to Organa who sat to her right. "I want to know what has happened to make him this way."

"Do you really think that you'll get an honest answer from him?"

"He won't refuse me. We are so much alike, aside from our shared culture and experiences. Those things will only serve to obtain the truth from him."

Bail nodded, his fingers punching in a series of commands on the commpad of their senate pod.

"Pestage should get back to us shortly. This session won't last for much longer; it's all showmanship and posturing, anyway."

They turned their attention back toward Chancellor Palpatine, and Amidala had to fight against the urge to shiver in a room which was controlled to accommodate the body temperatures of ever being in the room. Bail seemed unaffected, but Amidala found herself rehearsing exactly what she would say while the Chancellor continued to emote.

_____________________________________________________________________

"Senator Amidala! To what do I owe this rare and delightful pleasure?"

The Chancellor sat behind his long crimson desk, his features inviting and cordial. Amidala couldn't help but notice that he had chosen a robe black as night, embroidered with swirls of gold. He looked resplendent, and she chastised herself for thinking so.

"Chancellor, I come to you not as a colleague but as a friend."

The older man seemed bemused, but Padme knew better.

"I should like that, Senator. It has been too long since we have spoken casually, my dear."

Padme sat across from him, folding her hands in her lap and offering a half smile.

"I have noticed Naboo's silence in session of late. Is there something troubling you?"

"Actually, it's - Chancellor. . ."

"We are old friends, my lady. Please call me Palpatine."

"Palpatine" the name caused something in her belly to flip, a sensation not altogether unpleasant "I worry for you. I do not wish my concerns to be read as anything other than genuine concern. You seem unwell."

The Chancellor cocked a single eyebrow, offering a low and velvety chuckle. "My dear, I am perfectly alright, I assure you. I assume you speak of the newly white hair and the extra creases in my face?"

Padme blushed. "You continue to be a distinguished man, Chance - Palpatine."

"They are damning badges of my station, unfortunately. Valorum looked quite similar by the time he was so unfortunately deposed. I am in good health and generally good spirits."

"Only generally good spirits?" Padme could hardly believe she'd said it. Palpatine must have picked up on her embarrassment, because he actually laughed - a sound she cannot remember ever having heard. It caused her skin to break out in goosebumps.

"The chancellorship is lonely. I'm sure you remember how isolating your reign as Queen could be."

"Yes, unfortunately I do. I was often so lonely, longing for companionship in any form. Is that what's wrong, Palpatine?"

The older man looked down, turning his head and averting his blue eyes in a way that made Amidala's stomach flip twice. "Yes" he mumbled softly, hanging on to the final consonant a little longer for emphasis. "So very, I am afraid."

Amidala's chest heaved. Her mind began to race and she felt that her heart would leap out of her chest. This man before her had once been so strong and convicted, but his position had ciphoned his convictions in the same way it had done to Valorum. Before her sat a totem of Nubian aristrocracy dying a lonely death along with the rest of a galaxy unwilling to embrace true change. Instead of being repelled by his weakness, she found herself propelled by the strength he still possessed. Suddenly, he looked different to her.

Padme rose then, slowly padding to where the forlorn Chancellor sat. He seemed not to notice until, against the advice of a small voice in the back of her head, she knelt and placed her head in his lap.

"You have done so much for me, Palpatine. If there is a way I can repay you now, name your price."

She felt his hands in her hair, taking gentle handfuls of the hazel updo she was known for. He gently opened the Falucian crystal barret, letting her hair fall around her shoulders. He sucked in a quick breath then, looking down on the young woman he had mentored.

"You have turned into a beautiful woman. I - I do not know if I can take advantage of your offer in good conscience, my dear. Are you not married?"

Amidala recoiled. "H-how did you know?"

"Anakin confides in me, and his secrets are kept safe." Padme launched herself to her feet, her hair flying over her face in a fabulous array of anger.

"He is such a child! I asked him to tell no one, to keep it a secret!"

"My dearest Padme, you must not be angry with him. He doesn't come from the nobility that we do; he is a hardened warrior, not a diplmat as we are. Secrets and white lies mean nothing to him. He does not understand subtlety."

"Do not insult me by defending his actions, Palpatine." Amidala stood before the Chancellor just as Anakin had the day before, her chest heaving attractively and her hair a brown, luscious mane framing a look of harried frustration. Palpatine had to consciously convince his body not to betray him in that moment - anger made people so deliciously beautiful.

"It is not my intention to anger you, my lady." He stood then, crossing behind her and closing the gap between them and resting his hands on her shoulders. Noticing that she was beginning to calm, he allowed his hands to slide ever so slightly down the length of her back.

"It would seem that you need me more than my bruised ego requires comfort from you, if you will pardon a crude observation."

"I'm sorry that I got so upset, Chancellor. I see this conversation is going nowhere."

"I am inclined to disagree, my lady." She turned slowly, his thin lips curled in a congenial smile. Something in the air pushed her toward him - perhaps the omniscient Force Anakin forever worshiped - and before she could convince herself otherwise, her lips were locked with his in a desperate, fevered kiss. It was everything Anakin never gave her and everything she had been craving. It wasn't the Chancellor she wanted, simply the feeling of closeness. He had admitted craving the same thing, had he not? Surely the divine powers of fate could afford them this single trespass to repair their broken spirits?

"I think it is best" he said when their lips finally parted "that we do not speak of this. I would suggest that you go to the healers in the Jedi Temple to seek additional help. Were I Force sensitive, I would say that I sensed a great wound within you." Padme nodded slowly, tears blurring her vision. What had she done?

Alone in her bed that evening, Anakin's side of the flowing shimmershilk cold and vacant, she wept.

__________________________________________________________

Obi Wan had spent most of the evening in the lower ward of Coruscant, desperately searching for something - alcohol, sex, death sticks - to take his mind off of what was happening at the Temple. Anakin was nowhere to be found, though Yoda insisted that he had been sent on yet another complicated mission with a complement of clone troopers. Did Yoda know about their trysts? He convinced himself that the elder Jedi did not. Then again, if he didn't Anakin would be here in a cheap room far below the prying eyes of the city. His nubile body would be pressed against his, and they would be able to wordlessly apologize to the other. It hadn't happened for several standard weeks, and Kenobi was beginning to wonder after the reason for his apprentice's distance.

Soon it would be time to return to the topmost level of Coruscant and the never-ending war. He sighed heavily, reaching over to the table nearby for a bottle of Corellian ale. As he brought the mouth of the bottle to his lips for a formidable pull of the strong liquor, the holopad nearby began to flash insistently to signal an incoming transmission.

Obi Wan launched himself from the bed, positioning himself in front of a bare wall and throwing his outer robe over an otherwise naked body. Padme Amidala's flickering likeness came to life just as he had successfully covered his chest.

"Master Kenobi, are you available?"

"Of course, Senator." He offered a hallow bow, keeping his robe from parting.

"I need to speak with you urgently. I - I have engaged in conduct unbecoming a senator of the Galactic Republic and I have tendered my resignation with immediate effect."

Kenobi blinked several times, Amidala's words immediately sobering him.

"What has happened?"

"Meet me in the Temple. I will tell you everything there; this channel isn't encrypted, and Anakin must not know." "Anakin? What does this have to do with Anakin?"

"Just come to the Temple, Obi Wan. You're my only hope."

The transmission ended abruptly, Kenobi fighting the urge to stay and sleep off what would be a formidable hangover before meeting the senator. Sighing, he quickly bathed before dressing himself fully. He paid the proprieter and hailed a speeder, the lights of the city becoming more insistent as he rose higher into the upper levels of Coruscant.

Whatever Padme wanted to say was of grave importance. He timidly drew upon the Force to show him what would transpire and was met with a sudden vision which would have knocked him to his knees had he been standing.

Anakin Skywalker had defied a Jedi precedent. Yoda had come to him asking for anything which might disqualify him from service, and one had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Kenobi muffled his sobs as the speeder continued along its route toward the Temple looming large and suddenly menacing before them, his shoulders shaking with what the pilot thought was the cold.


	4. A Terrible Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padme adds one more piece to an already confounding puzzle. Obi Wan Kenobi turns out to be just as morally muddied as the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PADME GODDAMMIT YOU ARE SUCH A WHORE. 
> 
> Seriously though, this little plot twist came to me last night and the brilliance of it made me super happy. There's only one pair of arms Anakin can run to now.
> 
> This chapter is short, but from now on they're going to become increasingly long.

Padme tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, hiding her face behind a large robe similar to what the Jedi wore. She knew that their powers of perception were strong and that it was pointless to hide - well, not entirely. Amidala and Kenobi had a history.

After forming an alliance with Boss Nass, she had initiated an intimate relationship with the Jedi Knight. She had been painfully naive and dangerously young, and Obi Wan was wild and youthful when not muted by the Jedi. Qui Gon knew this and allowed the relationship to continue, but his untimely death turned Obi Wan from a kind, gentle spirit to an emotionally constipated Jedi Master.

Before long, the subject of her inner monologue stood before her, bowing low. Padme smiled.

"Obi Wan. . ." She rushed into his slender but strong arms, crying softly as they curled around her after a brief moment of hesitation.

"Senator. . . Padme. What's wrong? Is Anakin alright?"

"I don't know. What I have to tell you must be kept in confidence, though Anakin has already seen to compromise that."

"Please, Senator, with respect; dispense with the mystery and tell me what's going on!"

Padme's lips parted but no words came from some time before, finally --

"Married. We're married."

Kenobi's face melted.

"When?" he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

"After the battle to save you from Dooku."

Obi Wan took one step away from Padme as he shook his head in disbelief.

"All this time has passed and I had no idea. I'm his master, I'm supposed to be able to know him better than I know myself!"

Padme closed the space between them, placing a tentative hand on Kenobi's trembling shoulder. "This is not your fault. I let my love for Anakin blind me - at the time he wanted to be together, but now - something has changed. He's different, Obi Wan. I don't know why."

Kenobi's eyes remained distant and pained, as if he were somewhere else. Padme could tell that the news was affecting him deeply and that he was probably trying to draw on the Force for both control and guidance. Had she known better, she would have been able to sense several different conflicts wrestling inside of the Jedi.

"Obi Wan, please say something."

"I do not know what to say anymore, Padme. It seems as if the galaxy is falling down around me and there's nothing I can do to put it back together."

After a moment, he collected himself and asked "What will you do now?"

"I'm returning to Naboo under an alias. I will live out the rest of my days in shame and exile. I have let the people down, and I cannot serve knowing how many people I have hurt."

Kenobi sat down opposite Padme, his head in his hands. "Did you ever think of me?"

"What?"

"Did you ever think about - about what would happen if. . ."

"What happened between us is in the past! You said --"

"I said that if you find another, I would understand. I didn't mean another Jedi Knight."

There it was, then. More than her departure from the Senate, Obi Wan was jealous of Anakin. His feelings had not dulled over the years, which filled her with hope for the final piece of the puzzle she was about to reveal.

"Obi Wan Kenobi." The sound of his full name caused his head to snap up, looking at her behind a veil of unrelenting tears.

"The baby is not Anakin's."

"What?"

"Anakin and I have not been intimate for quite some time. Obi Wan --"

Before she could finish, he rose to his feet, offering a hasty bow and running from their discreet corner of the Temple. Padme watched him until he was out of sight, running down the long corridor toward the entrance and the anonymity of the city.

"The baby is yours, Obi Wan."

With more control and poise than she had exercised in quite some time, Padme Amidala exited the Jedi Temple. Her valet had long since loaded a Nubian cruiser with her personal effects, and the private quarters she had shared with Anakin were vacated. She boarded the sleek starship before the sun rose, not even tempted to look behind her for a final glance of Coruscant. For the first time in many years, her conscience was clear. Some secrets are meant to be kept, she told herself.


	5. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader stages a kidnapping and subsequent rescue of Darth Sidious. Kenobi fights through the ensuing battles with Dooku and Grievous, blocking Anakin from reading his emotions. Anakin senses that something is awry; Palpatine continues his blundering half-professions of affection for his apprentice.

Obi Wan sprinted toward the entrance of the Temple, his thoughts racing.

This is what Yoda had warned him of; the clairvoyant Jedi Master had seen directly into Kenobi's own soul and discovered every scandal involving the three of them. He might have even known about Padme back when Qui Gon was still alive, in which case the fact that he himself was still a Jedi became a confounding mystery.

Further, if Yoda knew that the truth would come to light about Obi Wan's progeny by Senator Amidala, it would have made all the sense in the galaxy to conveniently send him on a mission. Anakin's absence protected him for now, but what would happen when he returned?

The speeder which had brought him to the Temple had sat in wait, and he wasted no time climbing inside. There was only one more person he could turn to for help, and while everything in him railed against it, he knew that Chancellor Palpatine was his only option.

500 Republica came quickly, and Kenobi curtly nodded to the pilot before hitting the durasteel deck in a comfortable jog. He noticed that it was once again raining; a rarity for Coruscant's WeatherNet.

Palpatine was not expecting him, but that hardly mattered. The security of the Senate, the integrity of the Jedi Council, and the reputations of three major galactic figureheads were at stake.

Mas Amedda didn't seem to see the urgency in the situation, and kept Obi Wan in the foyer before finally admitting him to approach the Chancellor after a pointed glare from the politician.

"Master Kenobi! This is quite a surprise. I am as you know always available to the Jedi."

"I apologize for my boldness in seeking you out, Chancellor. I assume you've heard the news?"

Palpatine's face fell and he suddenly seemed paler than he had been a moment ago.

"News? I'm quite sure I don't know what you're referring to. Please illuminate me."

"Senator Amidala has resigned her seat in the Senate and has returned to Naboo."

Palpatine grew paler still, the edges of his mouth tugging themselves into a sharp frown.

"Is that so? I hadn't heard, no. Thank you for informing me."

"There's more, Chancellor. She. . . I. . ." The words were caught in his throat. Truth as it was in that moment was too terrible to speak aloud, but Kenobi knew that he had to be honest with the Chancellor if he could not with anyone else.

"She's pregnant with my child."

"I was under the distinct impression that Jedi were not allowed sins of the flesh. Has that caveat been abolished, or are you confessing wrongdoing?" Palpatine's condemnation made him uncomfortable, but he couldn't help but nod. If it were at all possible, the Chancellor looked increasingly upset with every minute that passed.

"Will you follow her into exile?"

"Perhaps, but there is another matter - Anakin. There is something wrong with him, Chancellor Palpatine. I sense distress and confusion in him; the seeds of the dark side have been planted."

Palpatine rose then, the rich wine fabric of a more casual robe causing him to appear taller and more authoritarian. Kenobi swallowed hard.

"I would rather we continued this conversation when I have more time to devote to it, Master Jedi. Please pardon me; I must retire for the evening."

The abrupt nature of his departure left Kenobi reeling several seconds after Palpatine had walked out of his office. Calling upon the Force, he reached out to try to touch the mind of the older diplomat and only came away with vaguaries concerning Anakin, perhaps a combination of worry and anxiety. Interesting.

As he made his way back to the Temple, Obi Wan quit fighting the sensation that something drastic was about to happen; something which would test the bonds of his friendship with Anakin. He also came to understand that Palpatine knew whatever that would be, and the thought unnerved him. Just as Kenobi slipped into a deeply meditative state for the evening, news broke out on the HoloNet that Count Dooku had kidnapped Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.

______________________________________

That stupid, foolish whore of a girl.

Even as he cursed her indiscretion, he reviled his own. To have acted in such a way would certainly have consequences for her, but his would be purely a matter of conscience. For that last several decades he had never made a mistake, but now he found himself scrambling to try to figure a way around the mess he had created.

Damn her. She had tempted him, yes, but Anakin was so unavailable lately and she had been _there_ , begging for him in a way that Lord Vader hadn't since that drunken rendezvous nearly three years ago. He had allowed himself to become complacent in his double life; this is what happens when you cannot even be honest with yourself anymore. Palpatine knew that there was no one else to blame.

The main HoloNet projector that loomed over the city errupted with footage of Anakin - noticeably gaunt but still gracefully accepting accolades for killing Tyranus. Sidious broke out in a cold sweat.

Tyranus may be gone, but that left Ventress to contend with. While young and and foolhardy, she would strike out alone in an attempt to usurp Anakin. In reality, she was just as dangerous as Grievous if only for what she knew. Then again, if everything was going according to plan. . .

Palpatine's holopad began beeping violently. Hesitating for a moment before activating the transmission, the Sith Lord sighed heavily. This had better be good.

Anakin materialized in front of him, genuflected with his light saber drawn. His eyes were locked onto Sidious' immediately.

"What _exactly_ \--"

"I had an opportunity, my Master. Forgive any impertinence."

"You are subverting our plan by helping the Jedi. The tide of the war has been turned in their favor, Darth Vader. Tell me what you would do if you were in my unfortunate position?"

Anakin didn't skip a beat. "With respect, I am not finished yet." Anakin abruptly ended the transmission, Palpatine huffing in defeat. This was the second time that he had taken it upon himself to disengage Sidious' company, and it would not happen again.

Palpatine padded back out to his office, the air thick as cortosis. As he entered the crimson office, he was hardly surprised to see Dooku standing in front of the window, a coy smile spreading into a wide grin.

"Master."

"I am not the least bit surprised; I should have known that Vader was up to something. Is it time?"

The Serenno noble offered a slow, single nod in reply.

"We don't have long. Quickly; we cannot be seen." 

The two Sith departed for the ship hovering over Coruscant as battle alarms rang out over the city. Just as their shuttle departed, Anakin Skywalker came out of hyperspace and began flying alongside Obi Wan, gunning down enemy ships and staging an elaborately staged rescue of the Supreme Chancellor.

_ _ _

The Force flowed easily through him, guiding every movement and command he issued to R2 as his starfighter glided through the black vacuum of space. The massive frigate Sidious was being transported to was clearly visible even from where he came out of hyperspace, and before long Anakin was in the fray firing and executing evasive maneuvers. Everything had to be perfect; Obi Wan had to think that he was earnestly engaging in the dogfight, completely focused on saving the Chancellor.

Kenobi's fighter barrel rolled and was suddenly hit; Artoo chirped frantically.

"It's all part of the plan, R2. Relax." Quickly, Vader shot and destroyed two of the enemy fighters, leaving Kenobi to focus on righting himself. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of several combatant droids attaching themselves to Kenobi's ship.

"Master, hold on! I have a plan."

"I can't hold them off for much longer, Anakin! Hurry!"

Anakin led the procession of enemy ships into the hangar of the Trade Federation battleship, Kenobi's fighter skittering to a violent stop behind him. R2 forced the door of the cockpit to open faster, allowing Skywalker to leap upward and ignite his lightsaber. Kenobi was batting away blasterfire from a detachment of battle droids and hitting a few of them. Anakin sliced and parried his way through the small unit, Obi Wan following close behind while Artoo used his scomp link to open the door allowing them to progress.

Several more small skirmishes followed before they reached the room wherein Chancellor Palpatine was being kept.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Anakin."

"Yes, Master. This seems too easy."

Palpatine was in a chair swiveled toward the battle raging out in the onyx void before him; Dooku had forced him to watch the carnage. A nice touch, Vader thought mirthlessly as the door parted to reveal Count Dooku.

"Gentlemen. A pleasant reunion indeed; a pity it will be short."

"My powers have doubled since the last time we met, Dooku." The older man feigned a look of surprise.

"Double the arrogance; double the fall." The Serenno was playing his part well - no doubt Palpatine took great pride in the Sith he had become.

"You are hardly equal to the task of defeating a Sith Lord, Master Jedi."

Kenobi turned, smiling coyly. "Chancellor, Sith Lords are our speciality!"

Pompous pile of bantha fodder. Luckily, Anakin knew, this scuffle wouldn't last long and Obi Wan would be unconscious for a good portion of their escape. Palpatine probed Darth Vader's mind to find it focused on making the next few moments as authentic as possible; good.

Dooku ignited his red blade, shrugging the cape from his shoulders. "Prepare to meet the Mystery, then."

Anakin struck forward first, expertly deflecting Dooku's offensive jabs. However, for as accomplished a swordsman as he was, Anakin was no match for the Count's ability to hurl objects at him; rather than fight, he was forced to duck and dive as Dooku threw several sections of bulkhead and loose machinery at he and Kenobi. In one dazzling, dramatic moment, Dooku pulled down a platform which fell on top of Obi Wan and incapacitated him, knocking him unconscious just as had been planned.

It was unconscionable to Anakin that Palpatine would order Tyranus to actually kill Kenobi; he did still care for the Jedi Master, as he had been as close to a brother as he'd ever been. It was from true anger then that Anakin renewed and redoubled his efforts, taking Dooku from the stairs near where Kenobi fell to right in front of the large command chair in which Sidious was bound. He too was playing his part, pretending to be horribly impressed with Anakin's heroic display.

Tyranus eventually tired, parrying when he should have perhaps performed a more offensive gesture; the mistake in calculation cost him the advantage, and Anakin took that opportunity to slice his lightsaber through the old Sith's wrist, catching his lightsaber in midair and igniting it. Tyranus, breathing hard and looking up at Vader on his knees, frantically looked toward Palpatine for help that would never come. Anakin held the blades of ice and fire crossed, bordering either side of Dooku's neck.

"Good, Anakin, good! I knew you could do it!"

He froze. He'd rehearsed this several times over, but seemed to have forgotten the next steps. He looked to a supine Kenobi trapped under the durasteel platform, but found no solace in that image. Gulping air into his lungs, he cast his gaze toward Palpatine, whose blue eyes bore into him, feeding him the answer.

"Kill him" he said, a new and unfamiliar edge in his voice. "Kill him now."

There was no hesitation. Darth Vader took a deep breath and crossed the blades of energy, decapitating Dooku. His body made a sickening sound when it hit the floor, and Anakin had to make an effort to stay the bile climbing up his throat. He quickly relieved Palpatine of his bonds, the older man remaining perfectly still and not even moving for what seemed a lengthy period of time.

"Well done, apprentice. You have redeemed yourself."

"Forgive me, my Master. I wasn't aware that redemption was required." Palpatine blinked.

"We will discuss this sudden need for argument at a later date; if your memory serves you, this battleship is facing imminent destruction. We must leave at once." Palpatine caught himself staring into Anakin's dark eyes, the sounds of the ongoing battle sounding like distant drums as he fought the urge to once again illustrate his feelings for Vader.

As Palpatine made his way up the steps rubbing his wrists as he went, Anakin ran to Kenobi.

"We do not have time, Anakin. Leave him."

"His fate will be the same as ours; and I sensed something, something he isn't telling me --"

Palpatine huffed and turned around, making his way toward the door leading to the hallway. Anakin slung Obi Wan over his shoulder, carrying him effortlessly and running as he was able down the long hallway. Sidious began breathing hard immediately, to which Vader gave him a sidelong glare. The two men did not speak.

Suddenly a transluscent barrier sprang up, enveloping them in a bubble which prohibited further movement.

"Grievous must know we're here. Damn; I had not accounted for that." Sidious silently cursed himself, suddenly feeling particularly inept. First that sundry business with Amidala, and now this disaster of a plan - what was next?

"Artoo will be along shortly, then we can leave this ship. Trust me." Sidious rolled his eyes just as the little astromech in question came barreling through a door, screeching loudly so as to distort his amplifier, hitting the adjacent wall and spinning 180 degrees. Palpatine stifled a laugh.

"Told you." Unfortunately, no sooner than the words were spoken than several battle droids appeared, making it clear that the three men would not be escaping.

_ _ _

"General Grievous; you're shorter than I expected."

The cyborg organic warlord's eyes narrowed to impossibly small slits. Once again, Palpatine felt his still-sore wrists being bound as he was pulled away from the scene of the forthcoming altercation between Grievous, Kenobi, and Anakin. He watched his champion apprentice fight valiantly, only to observe as the General made yet another escape.

"We're going to have to land this hunk of metal if we are to survive. Everyone strap in."

"Do you know how to pilot this thing?"

"I think my ability to fly this vessel is immaterial, Master. Release all flies and dragfins."

Kenobi performed the task wordlessly, obviously miffed at Anakin's curt reply. _You and me both_ , thought Sidious bitterly.

Darth Vader could feel the heat of his Sith master radiating into his own skin, though the sensation wasn't undesirable. He knew how the aging politician felt about him; that hadn't been difficult to discover, especially after their near coupling in his office before he left for the mission Yoda had charged him with. He felt nothing, however, from Kenobi; it was possible that he was shielding his thoughts from Anakin, though he didn't know why that would be. He made a mental note to ask the Jedi about it when the time was right.

Anakin exercised remarkable control as he landed the massive battleship, Palpatine emitting several contrived groans and expressions of fear while Kenobi did his best to look engaged and busy. Darth Vader remained strapped in the pilot's chair long after the behemoth had ground to a halt, renting the landing pad in two. Obi Wan left in a hurry, leaving Sidious and Vader behind for a brief moment alone.

"You have impressed me, Darth Vader. Color me bemused."

Anakin nodded. "Thank you, my Master." He unclipped the straps, rising slowly to his feet. His face momentarily melted with pain, which Palpatine immediately noticed. Stubborn boy; he had obviously not gone to get his injuries from Ventress treated, as the scar above his eye was not healing properly.

"Help me out of this death machine and go speak with Kenobi. Do not come to me until the Jedi's misgivings are assuaged."

"Yes, my Master."

One who had the power of exacting observation could perhaps tell that, when they disembarked the battleship, Anakin was exclusively concerned with Palpatine climbing down onto solid ground; it was Sidious whose well-being was his priority. Kenobi pretended to cover a sneeze as he wiped another of the seemingly infinite tears away from his sunken eyes.


	6. Light and Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi Wan makes a choice; Anakin finally gives in to his feelings. Padme is caught in between what was and what is, and General Grievous' whereabouts are discovered. With the end of the war in sight, sides are chosen. A destiny is revealed.

Anakin had felt it throughout the rescue of the Chancellor; he felt it when they were alone, coursing through him just as surely as the Force itself. He could no longer deny his feelings nor could he name them aloud; to do so would mean a final betrayal of the Jedi; of _Obi Wan_ , and in spite of an increasingly nagging voice telling him that something was not right, he continued to pine for the Council's favor.

Sidious was, of course, beside himself with the fervor surrounding his rescue. For his part, Anakin played the confident, regal Jedi who had saved the Supreme Chancellor from certain death. He disliked the congratulatory back slapping and vaccuous praise proferred by slimy politicians, but he gracefully submitted himself to the onslought of publicity - for the time being. He longed to see Padme, to feel something familiar and comforting.

Upon entering their apartment, he immediately noticed that her things were gone. _She_ was gone.

"Where is Padme?" he growled into his commpad, Obi Wan's heavy sigh audible through the amplifier even as it was obvious he was trying to muffle it.

"Anakin, she's a politician. Her people needed her."

"Why was I not informed? Who will protect her? Grievous is still at large, and for all we know he could be --"

"That will not happen, Anakin. Try to rest; the briefings are in a few days and will require your full attention." Kenobi's end of the transmission went dead - Anakin punched the transparisteel window, the full force of his jab not even scratching the surface.

If she had gone on business, why had a Jedi Knight not accompanied her? Something was going on, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. Padme's disappearance, coupled with Obi Wan's protected thoughts, had piqued Anakin's curiosity - and his anger.

Palpatine, when he asked him about it, was infuriatingly unaffected.

"Considering her _condition_ , would you not find her departure prudent?" His twinkling eyes informed something else - just as Obi Wan's did. Anakin grimaced.

"She should have told me. I'm her _husband_."

"Yes, but appearances must be kept, my apprentice. What would the Council think?"

Vader considered the options. If he followed her to Naboo, he would be defying the Council again - they would not give him another chance for admittance. On the other hand, if he allowed her to leave he ran the risk of whatever his visions had foretold coming to pass. . .

"I have to go to her." Palpatine's eyes remained fixed on the transparisteel window, his shoulders noticeably crumpling forward. Stupid boy.

Anakin felt the lust radiating from his mentor but opted to ignore it for as long as possible. Palpatine, on the other hand, found himself unwilling and unable to control a sudden urge to breathe life into the affinity for his young apprentice.

"Vader, come here." Anakin hesitantly moved toward Darth Sidious, taking calculated steps. When he was standing in front of the shorter man, it came as no surprise when his arms snaked their way around Anakin's well-built torso.

"You know, don't you?" The question was presented in the low, gutteral tones Anakin loved. He swallowed.

"About how you - how you feel for me?"

"Yes, yes. You know how long I have wanted to plunge the depths of the dark side with you, to unveil its true nature. This is the way of our Order - the way of the Sith. Why do you think Darth Bane enacted the Rule of Two, dear boy?" 

Anakin shrugged, his own arms encapsulating the older man. "I don't know, my master."

"It is an ancient practice steeped in the oldest traditions of Sith sorcery. It was believed that a master and an apprentice could combine their powers using" he paused for effect, blinking heavily " _carnal_ methods, creating a maelstrom of dark side essence so strong it could fell entire systems on a whim if it were potent enough. Bane knew well what limitless greatness passion could accomplish."

Anakin fumbled for the right words, his mouth opening and closing as his mind flipped through any number of things he could say in that moment. Sidious was indeed a master at manipulation; was this a way for him to dissuade going to Padme? Did he know about his tentative and rapidly deteriorating relationship with Obi Wan?

"Clear your mind, Lord Vader. We both want the same thing, do we not? For a peaceful galaxy, the end of the tyranny of the Jedi?"

He hadn't realized it, but Anakin's arms had weaved tightly around Palpatine. The older man's voice was muffled against the fabric of his cloak and tunic. Outside, it had begun to rain once more.

"You know how much I love the rain; the WeatherNet says that it isn't supposed to begin until after sundown, but you change it when you know we'll be together."

"Anakin. . ." it was Palpatine's turn for the words to become lost, the Force formlessly dictating that silence was the order of the day.

Palpatine couldn't believe it. They were so close, but there was more to this than the fulfillment of a long-desired coupling. He wanted what a Sith could never admit to, could never name aloud. He considered his current situation; Anakin perhaps wanted him also, and Sidious could have his apprentice, body and soul, in addition to its default dismissal of that sordid business with Padme.

Without warning, Anakin released Sidious and began stalking toward the door just as he had several days prior. As the durasteel doors split open in barely enough time to let the young Sith Lord pass through without running into them, Sidious called out.

"Lord Vader, do not go to her. You will find no redemption in her arms." He stopped for a moment without turning around, his eyes flashing in that brief passage of time before he replied, "Her arms are not what I want."

Sidious pounded a fist on his desk as the doors closed behind his wayward apprentice. He could not force Anakin to submit, but when he discovered the truth about Kenobi and his precious Padme, there would only be one person left in the galaxy who understood him.

 _"Who loves him"_. Palpatine hated himself for it; it defied the foundations of what made him Sith. Perhaps in his earlier years, in those days leading up to and after he murdered his father and family, he had made a good Sith. Not now; not anymore. Not since Anakin Skywalker was delivered from slavery and trained to become the greatest Jedi Knight the galaxy had yet known.

He heard Plagueis' voice demeaning him in his head. For the first time in decades, he silenced the spectre of his long-dead master. Sidious silently resolved to manage his own destiny from now on and not the one dictated to him by the Muun who had taught him everything he knew.

_ _ _

Padme was beautiful when she slept; he had always thought so. Even uncomfortable and swollen with child, she was an image of the purest beauty Obi Wan had ever known. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he ran his fingers down the slope from her ribs to her hip, cupping the sensitive area and massaging it gently. She sighed in her sleep, leaning in to his ministrations. Obi Wan smiled.

It may have been a mistake, coming to Naboo after the battle above Coruscant. Truth be told, Anakin and the Council were so busy searching for Grievous that he wouldn't be missed for a few standard days. A reprieve was always expected after ordeals like the Chancellor's rescue.

Padme stirred, her eyelids fluttering as she awoke.

"Obi? What's wrong?" She nuzzled closer into his chest, throwing a leg around his waist.

"Nothing. I just --"

She was completely awake now; he had alarmed her.

"What? Don't shut me out, Obi Wan."

"I'm worried about what will happen when Anakin finds out. I already sense so much confusion and anger in him, I fear that this may drive him over the edge."

"But what about the Council? They would expell you, and --"

"Anakin is not completely blameless." Padme knew that Obi Wan was not willing to expound upon that statement, and she didn't push further - but she knew that he too was hiding something.

"Did you ever love him?"

"Of course I did. He was my husband -- still _is_ my husband, if only in name. I don't want anything to happen to you, Obi." Padme tightened her embrace, and Kenobi rubbed her upper arms as they encircled him.

Here, in the lake country, he felt safely hidden away from the problems plagueing both the Republic and the war. With Grievous continuing his tyrannical tour of the galaxy, there was nothing else more important than his defeat. Obi Wan ran his hand over Padme's swollen belly and felt a wellspring of emotion burst within him. He wanted his child to live in a peaceful galaxy, not one ravaged and torn apart by perpetual unrest.

"I should go."

Padme rose from the bed, covering her naked body with a shimmersilk robe as the Nubian suns began to rise.

While Obi Wan dressed, Padme fingered the rune inscribed on the face of the necklace Anakin had given her. Tears began to well up in her eyes until the stone beneath her fingertips became damning rather than comforting. Kenobi secured his belt around his waist and closed the distance between them, once again holding her in his arms and whispering words of comfort.

"We have failed him, Obi."

"He has failed himself."

Padme considered the Jedi's lack of compassion. She was just as guilty of neglect as Anakin was; perhaps moreso, considering who she had betrayed him for. If Kenobi was right and he fell to the dark side, they would both be at fault. The war suddenly seemed alarmingly small in comparison to what was happening between the three of them.

"I must return to Coruscant before I am missed. Please keep yourself safe; keep your head down. Understood?"

Padme could only nod. Satisfied, Obi Wan Kenobi concealed his face with the thick hood of his robe and disappeared into the coming dawn. Padme Amidala cradled her belly with her hands as she continued watching the suns rise alone.

_ _ _

"Discovered the whereabouts of General Grievous, we have. End quickly will this war."

Anakin smiled. Actually smiled, for what seemed like the first time in weeks. Once the war was over, maybe he could convince Padme to take him back; he would challenge Darth Sidious to single combat and he would win, becoming the hero of the Republic and the Jedi Order. His child would be raised in a galaxy where peace reigned supreme, where neither Sith nor Jedi ruled. Democracy, _true_ democracy, would be the supreme law of all beings. He had foreseen it.

"Where, Master Yoda?" one newer Jedi Knight querried, causing the elder Jedi to chuckle.

"Patience we must have, young Jedi. Careful planning we must adhere to if Grievous we are to defeat."

Anakin's focus waned for a moment as the briefing continued, his gaze falling to a haggard Obi Wan. He seemed pale and preoccupied - gently, Vader probed with the Force and caressed the edges of Kenobi's mind. A sudden vision of a Nubian sunrise, brilliant and reminiscent of the one he and Padme had watched the morning after their wedding, greeted his coaxing. He recoiled in disgust, breaking his mind away from Obi Wan's. Had he recently been to Naboo? Did he know where Padme was?

"Young Skywalker, lead the battalion to the rendezvous point will you? Battling Grievous in your mind already, he must be." Muffled laughter rippled around the room as Anakin snapped back to the present, smoothing the front of his tunic nervously.

"Yes, Master Yoda. It would be my pleasure."

"Ah, good then. Dismissed you are."

Anakin watched the remaining Jedi file out of the briefing room silently, taking note that Obi Wan was not moving from his seat.

"Master? Is there something wrong?"

Kenobi shook his head, offering a weak smile in reply.

"We should - Anakin, we should talk. But not here." His voice was a hushed and harried whisper, as Yoda and Windu were speaking a few meters away. "Meet me in the gardens. We will talk more there."

"Yes, Master. Now?"

"As soon as you can."

Anakin rose and sauntered out of the room, feeling completely bewildered and confused. Kenobi looked like he did after particularly demanding missions, but they'd been back in the Temple for rest and meditation for three days now. There was no logical reason why Obi Wan would be exhausted. Was he ill? Is that what he had to tell him?

The gardens of the Temple were mostly deserted save for a pair of younglings practicing swordplay with small training sabers; the sounds of the wooden blades click-clacking together made Obi Wan smile in spite of himself. How simple everything must seem to them, he thought. They need not worry about oaths, politics, or war.

He watched as Anakin scanned the area, searching for his master. He had shed the youthful vigor and traded it for calculated, military-like movements. Everything he did and said was to serve a purpose; each step he took was strong and confident. The war had prematurely aged all of the Jedi, but Anakin had taken the brunt of it. Perhaps that's why Obi Wan had propositioned him; he hadn't wanted Ani to lose _everything_ that made him youthful.

"Over here, Anakin!" Kenobi waved, watching as his apprentice navigated around the dueling padawans to sit next to his mentor.

"Tell me what's going on." Anakin's eyes flashed, the hazel hue catching the sinking moons just so. Kenobi's breath caught in his throat.

"I wanted to tell you" Obi Wan stopped, changing direction quickly "how proud I am of the Jedi you've become. I know it seems like I've always been so hard on you, but the truth is that I - I admire you, Anakin. You are strong and wise - a far better Jedi than I will ever be."

Anakin's mouth hung open. "Thank you, Master."

"I am not your master anymore. We are here together as equals, Anakin. I have taught you everything I know.

Silence. Off in the distance, the younglings continued their sparring. Click click clack went their blades; Anakin rubbed his hands together as the nighttime temperature began to take hold.

Obi Wan scooted closer, an imperceptible movement Anakin didn't seem to register. He leaned in slightly until his shoulder was touching Anakin's. The younger Jedi emitted a contented sigh.

"It's. . . it's been a long time since we sat like this, Mast -- Obi Wan."

"I've missed you."

"I just - I thought you'd forgotten about me. Us. I've been so frustrated with the Council, with our inability to find and kill Grievous, with --"

"I know, Anakin. I know. I haven't forgotten about you; the war has complicated things, made it impossible to discern what is real and what isn't. I may be a Jedi Master, but I am afforded no more clarity than you are."

"Tell me why the Council won't admit me, Obi Wan. Why can't I gain their trust?"

Obi Wan held his breath. "It's Chancellor Palpatine. You're too close to him."

"He's my friend! He's a good man."

"He is a politician, Ani. It's his job to ensure that the Chosen One is on his side."

Vader suddenly felt lightheaded. Rubbing his temples, it took all of his self control to resist wringing the Jedi Master's neck. How dare he talk about Palpatine that way?

"He has been good to me ever since I came to Coruscant. I wouldn't have made it without his guidance."

Obi Wan looked away. "What about Qui Gon? For that matter, what about me? Have I been unable to provide for you, to teach you? Ani. . ." Kenobi put one shaky hand on Anakin's shoulder, rubbing it purposefully. "You know how much I care about - how much I love you."

The younglings had ceased their practice, the sudden silence of the garden becoming stifling. Anakin gulped air into his lungs, fighting the tears threatening to capsize his carefully-maintained stoicism. "You know that I am grateful to you, Obi Wan. Everything you have taught me, what you gave me by taking me away from Tatooine. I'll never be able to repay you." _My gratitude counts for nothing; not as long as Sidious is alive._ The thought was unwanted but true. The tears began to slide down his chiseled face, but Kenobi didn't seem to notice.

"Then may the Force be with you as you depart tomorrow, Anakin. We will meet again when this is all over."

"May the Force be with you, Obi Wan."

The two men rose, offering curt bows to one another before walking away in opposite directions. Kenobi toward the Temple to meditate and wallow in the guilt of pleasuring himself to snapshots of Padme's sweet, succulent visage; Lord Vader to the shadows toward 500 Republica. He didn't realize that's where he was going until he walked through the door, passed a surly Sate Pestage, straight through the large durasteel doors and all the way over to Sidious' beloved panoramic transparasteel window. He didn't know that his mentor was in his arms panting and gasping for air until, his own chest heaving and his erection firmly pressed up against Palpatine's stomach, the older Sith mumbled bitterly "About time you came to your senses my dear, dear boy." Only then did he know what he wanted, _who_ he wanted. It was then as he buried his cock between the surprisingly supple thighs of Darth Sidious that he realized, with a start, that Obi Wan Kenobi had gone to Naboo to see Padme. It was at that moment of climax, as Palpatine's thick midnight blue robes were bunched up over his chest while he screamed his apprentice's name with each savage thrust, that Anakin saw Padme giving birth to twins.

Twins who, as the Chancellor writhed and begged for Anakin's seed, looked nothing like him.

"Ani. . . Vader. . . A-a-anakin. Please, harder. More."

Anakin collapsed on top of the Chancellor, seizing his neck with kisses. The desk beneath them offered no protest of the added weight, and not even Pestage could hear them. Sith sorcery at its most valuable, Anakin thought giddily.

"I have to go."

Palpatine's eyes narrowed. "Nonsense, Darth Vader. Are you robbing me of what is rightfully mine on the eve of your greatest military achievement?"

Anakin chuckled, mussing the white hair of his master. How funny it seemed to have the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic on his own desk, his normally immaculate robes a wrinkled and tangible testament to their sins. Palpatine frowned, furiously attempting to smooth his hair to no avail - which only caused Vader to laugh harder.

"No. I didn't - I hadn't planned this, my Master. I'm sorry; don't look at me like that!" Sidious' frown deepened even as Anakin guided him from propped up elbow to his chest. Finally, he heard Palpatine sigh and knew that he wasn't in immediate danger of further offense.

"When General Grievous is gone -"

"Shhh. Be still, Lord Vader. Do not speak of the future now."

For once, Anakin listened. They continued to recline on the desk, flimsiplasts and datacards scattered haphazardly from their fevered consummation.

Sidious allowed a contented sigh to escape as the insistent percussion of rain drops lapped against the window. He felt Anakin smile.


	7. Downfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenobi is dispatched to Utapau for the final encounter with General Grievous. Darth Sidious finally achieves his ultimate goal, and Darth Vader is acquainted with the bittersweet tonic of being right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involved some use of Wookieepedia, especially where the Battle of Utapau was concerned. I was initially invested in writing the final battle between Grievous and Obi Wan, but then I realized that this fic isn't about the military conflicts -- it's about the conflicts between the Jedi and Sith, Anakin and Kenobi, Padme and Anakin, etc etc. It's an interpersonal fic full of... I don't know, feelings and shit. 
> 
> At this point I've thought out how I want this to end, and now all I need to do is fill in the middle. Buckle up; this is going to be a wild, twist-filled ride.

"Is it not grand", Darth Plagueis had asked him one day, "to acquire precisely what you set your intentions to amass?" Sidious mused on the memory of his master, wondering idly if he would see the beauty in the current situation. Probably not.

Anakin was above him, sweating and cursing and _pummeling_ him with lustful intent blazing in the pupils of his maddened golden eyes - which were, he noted ecstatically, incadescently glowing with the power of the dark side. Sidious moaned, his eyes lolling back and forth like pull slots on Nar Shaddaa. Perhaps his vocalizations were exaggerated, but he truly felt - what? Happiness? Fulfillment? He didn't know exactly what was causing him to react to Anakin in such a way; the only thing he knew is that he enjoyed it. Immensely.

It was just passed 0300 standard hours, which meant that it had been five standard hours since Anakin burst into his office, his mane of hair unkempt and his robes soaked with rain, intent on filling Darth Sidious with his not-inconsiderable cock. They had spent almost two of those hours on his desk, Palpatine encouraging his apprentice who showed no signs of slowing down, grasping his older master's thighs while mercilessly exploring a surprisingly taut channel. Sidious knew he had impressed Anakin when, the desk proving troublesome, they had moved to his private quarters adjacent to the office and the boy had seen Sidious completely nude for the first time. The sight of it had, to Palpatine's amusement, rejuvenated Anakin's slumping member and they had achieved orgasm several times since. Presently, Sidious was curled against Anakin, whose arms were holding him so tightly it was unknown whether or not the Sith Lord would ever be able to break free. Not that he wanted to; the rain continued unabetted and the younger man seemed content to plant kisses on the back of Sidious' neck, his body pressed against the silky soft skin of his older mentor.

This was galaxies better than whatever Padme could aspire to. It was Anakin he had always wanted; Anakin whose body he had craved, whose power he longed to combine with his own. He had long felt that their Force signatures were complementary; it was obvious that the boy - no, the young man - knew this as well. Palpatine silently promised himself that he would yet discover how deep Vader's feelings went.

"Obi Wan leaves on his tour tomorrow." Sidious sighed again, rolling over to his left side to look at Anakin, drawing the large Tauntaun down blanket around him.

"And so the Jedi close in on General Grievous. It is only a matter of time, now. Are you worried for his safety?" There was an edge to the question, Palpatine planting it on purpose. A warning; Anakin wisely heeded it.

"I had a vision while we were making love" Sidious blanched at Darth Vader's use of the term, that same warmth once again flooding his body and stiffening his own cock in reply "that Padme had twins. They looked nothing like me." Palpatine smirked.

"Whose children would they be if not yours, Lord Vader?"

Anakin sank further into the mattress, sheepishly eyeing his master. "I do not know. I need to speak with Padme to know for sure."

"You are wise to recognize that Force dreams only reveal partial realities." 

Anakin raised an eyebrow quizically. "You told me not to go to her."

"And you said that her arms were not what you desired. I see now what you meant." Palpatine gestured to their current surroundings, Anakin grinning and leaning in to kiss his master on the mouth.

"You have my blessing if you wish to speak with Padme. I trust that you will be able to discern her true nature."

As their legs were entwined and his young paramour's kisses, slow and deliberate, covered Palpatine's supine body it was clear that the soon-to-be former Jedi had chosen his allegiance. Anakin would confront Padme and learn the truth, which would create an irreparable tear in his relationship with Obi Wan and forever estrange Amidala. The ensuing scandal would eclipse whatever good the Jedi had done, and that would provide ample distraction so that Palpatine could take over and restore order - creating the Galactic Empire and finally securing peace throughout the galaxy. Darth Sidious was focused, but he did not possess the condemning tunnel vision of his master; he felt Vader's trepidation growing exponentially, tumultuous and unstable like an overheated reciprocation coil in an ion canon. The suspense was becoming too much for the aging Sith to handle; though the evening's reprieve was certainly welcome. Palpatine felt that he could breathe easier knowing that Darth Vader had made his choice. 

"Are you certain of your place now, Lord Vader?" The fingers of his apprentice ceased combing through the typically well-quaffed white hair Sidious took so much pride in. There was no hesitation. "Yes, Master. I know what I must do."

Sidious' warm smile was all the encouragement Vader needed, and he rose from the bed and began dressing. "I have watched you grow into a handsome and adept Force user, and now I have the pleasure of knowing that it will always be me to whom you will return." Thoughtfully, he added "That poor, long-suffering Kenobi. What a fool he was to treat you so."

Anakin dressed quickly in his robes, his tunic and undergarments still damp from the deluge he rode through on the way to the Chancellor's apartments. "Go to Naboo and seek out Padme." There was, once again, a dangerous and foreboding edge to Palpatine's voice that Anakin began to recognize as the timbre of his speech with denoted the utmost importance. "Do as the dark side directs you, whatever the cost." Slowly, realization flooded Vader's features and he nodded, offering a compulsory bow as Darth Sidious waved him away.

For Palpatine, meditation came unnaturally quickly that evening. The WeatherNet was scheduled to provide rain indefinitely. Coruscant's weather was beginning to resemble that of Kamino; torrential downpours with a dark, foreboding sky to match. It would prove a mirror of the dark days to come.

_ _ _ 

Utapau was not an attractive planet by any galactic standard of beauty, which made Obi Wan's mission even less appealing. He didn't even care about the war anymore; just Padme. Every moment, every move he made was informed by the thought of her. He had gone mad, he was sure. After the war, he would certainly be expelled from the Jedi Order; oddly, that thought did not frighten him nearly as much as the possibility of being without Padme.

"I should like some fuel and a place to rest before I continue my journey."

Tion Medon nodded, non-chalantly beckoning Kenobi to come closer.

"He's here. We are being held hostage."

"I will call for reinforcements. If you have warriors, now is the time." A slight bow and the two parted company, Obi Wan walking back to his small starship. The call for a battalion of clone troopers was answered promptly; now all that remained was the insufferable waiting.

He had already promised himself that he would speak with Anakin when the opportunity presented itself. There would be many things to attend to immediately following the death of Grievous, and he had rehearsed what he planned to say several times over when they did finally get a chance to speak. He hoped for a neat resolution and understanding on the part of his former apprentice, but knew deep down that would not happen. Padme was safe until the end of the war, but there was no guarantee that Anakin wouldn't go to Naboo first. Kenobi felt at times as though he were playing a particularly complicated hand of sabaac - though instead of credits, he was betting with the lives of the people he loved.

Suddenly, the edges of Obi Wan's vision began to swim and blur. He felt a simultaneous sensation of nausea and ecstacy, causing the astromech droid to chirp a warning from where he was situated in the droid port on the anterior of the ship.

"I'm a-a-alright, R4. It must be dehydration --"

"No, Obi Wan Kenobi. It is not."

At hearing the unmistakable baritone of his long-dead master, Kenobi's mouth hung open.

"Master? Qui Gon?"

"Listen to me, Obi Wan. The dark side beckons you. Do not place your oaths as a Jedi Knight below your love for Padme. Passion will only lead you away from your destiny."

"Master, she carries my child! What would you have me do?" Kenobi was openly weeping, the sensation of communing with the Force itself compressing his already thinning resolve. "Please tell me what I should do. I have lost my way."

"Do not go to her, Obi Wan. Return to Coruscant and face the truth boldly, as I have taught you to do."

"She will die if I do not protect her, Master!"

Qui Gon Jinn's voice remained stern and insistent. "Let the Force guide you, Obi Wan. Search your feelings."

Kenobi's vision began to return, but his weeping did not slow. "Master, don't leave me! I need you!" His cries were no longer heard by Qui Gon, who had retreated back into the realm of the Force. The red plated astromech continued to emit a wild, insistent series of high-pitched clicks, alerting Kenobi to the incoming drop ship bearing the requested clone troopers. Smoothing his hair and steeling himself, Kenobi jumped from the cockpit and joined the party of troopers. Captain Rex looked at him quizically, but did not inquire after the Jedi general's disheveled appearance.

"We came as soon as we could, sir. What's the plan?"

"An ambush. I will engage Grievous, and you will keep the battle droids busy while I give chase. He will not get away this time."

"Aye, sir! 501st, move out!" With a final bow, Kenobi raced off toward the central command post. His heart felt as if it were about to leap from his chest out of his mouth, the words of his master still ringing in his ears. With some meditation, the troublesome sensations were staid enough so that he could concentrate on engaging General Grievous and ending the war.

_ _ _

Darth Vader's impressive acquisitions had earned him respect in Coruscant's spaceport ever since Palpatine had gifted him his first ship. It hadn't been anything flashy or of particularly remarkable quality, but over time he outfitted the Corellian headhunter with enough modifications and armaments that the onyx-plated starfighter garnered just enough inconspicuous praise. As a result, and in spite of several additional gifts of higher quality, Anakin preferred to utilize the black quad-winged fighter whenever Sidious required that he go off world. Sliding into the spacious cockpit, he flicked a red-capped switch and the transdurasteel hatch slowly descended, silently clicking into place and sealing the Sith Lord inside. Rather than his typical Jedi robes, Vader instead opted for a simple black and gray flight suit, the Republic insignia centered at the top of his left sleeve; for a more authentic look, he had chosen to tuck the bottoms of his fatigues into impossibly polished black utility boots. A life support system was centered in the middle of his chest, its breathing tubes attached to a custom-built helmet (another gift from Sidious) which concealed his identity quite nicely under expertly-crafted high gloss matte duraplast. He wondered if he had made a mistake in not getting his hair cut before his departure, thinking back to a comment Padme had blithely let slip about the non-regulation length of Anakin's dirty blond hair. He had always simply assumed, as he had with regards to most things in their relationship, that nothing about his appearance was undesirable to her. Evidently he had been incorrect in his assumption -- and a score of others just like it, as well.

"Black Knight, you are cleared for departure. Debark when ready."

Vader's swift and precise exit from the hangar was all the reply the administrator needed. In a matter of minutes, he had cleared Coruscant's atmosphere and was welcomed into the endless, lonely depths of space. His veermok leather gloved fingers typed in the jump coordinates for Naboo into the navicomputer, the autonav feature toggled on. As the headhunter jumped to hyperspace, Anakin emitted a long sigh as he relaxed into the surprisingly comfortable pilot's seat. The black astromech situated in the droid port warbled behind him, and Anakin chuckled.

"That's right, R6. Naboo." The droid offered a surprised string of what sounded like expletives, Vader laughing in reply.

"Yeah, it's been a while. There's someone I need to see."

The remainder of the journey was uneventful, Anakin's thoughts divided between what he would say to Padme, how Obi Wan was faring on Utapau, and how surprisingly warm Sidious' lips had been when they moved over his own. He realized, of course, that he was now just as guilty of infidelity as Padme - but could not love conquer all else? Had their love not survived the worst of the Clone Wars? Surely, he thought, they would be able to find a way out of their current predicament.

Was it even worth salvaging if the children were not of his own blood?

Naboo was Anakin's favorite planet in the Core, probably because it was the opposite of everything Tatooine had been. The lush vegetation and foliage were stark contrasts to the endless sand and deserts of the world he had spent most of his childhood on living in slavery. There were perhaps some places which were less desolate than others, but those did not compare to the majestic splendor of the Nubian lake country. Anakin marveled at how Sidious could have ever left the beauty of it behind as he gently guided the black fighter toward the Theed Palace landing pad.

Incredibly, a swollen and pallid Padme was awaiting him as he glided down, hurling himself from the cockpit and ripping the helmet off of his head. He could not help but smile at the sight of her, his heart beating faster as she returned his smile in earnest.

"Padme!" He embraced her openly, not caring what anyone thought. They surely wouldn't recognize him in a standard-issue flight suit.

"Ani, what are you doing here? I thought that you were going to engage General Grievous with Obi Wan."

"I was only tasked to follow him as far as the rendezvous point; and besides, the Council was not keen on letting me join the fray." He bent low, gently tugging on Padme's earlobe. She sighed, not knowing whether to lean into his machinations or push him away. On a whim, she chose the former.

"Anakin, I -- I've been worried. There's talk that Chancellor Palpatine won't relinquish his emergency power when the war is over, and Obi Wan thinks that -" Anakin frowned, groaning.

"Obi Wan has engaged General Grievous. It is only a matter of time before the war is over, and then everything will be put right; I promise." Padme seemed unaffected, her eyes filling with tears. Anakin tentatively stepped forward, enclosing her slight body in his arms; feeling the bulge of her swollen abdomen against him. He was shocked and dismayed at how foreign it felt - even through their clothes, she seemed different. Perhaps less connected to him than she'd ever been even on their worst days, and it was almost as if. . . no, to think of it was to bring his visions alive. To breathe life into the worst of all possible outcomes, the most disturbing reality made truth by the Force.

"Padme," he breathed, the power of the dark side beginning to take shape behind his eyes "has Obi Wan been here?"

The former Queen of Naboo found that she was unable to answer, instead covering her face with her delicate hands, sobs wracking her body until she was brought to her knees right on the landing pad. As she wept, the memory of Chancellor Palpatine's lips on hers and Obi Wan's gentle and desperate lovemaking caused a hulking pain in her chest.

"The baby, Anakin. . . I -- Obi Wan. I do not love you any longer, Anakin. You have been distant, going down a path I have not been able to discern or follow. . . gods above, forgive me."

Vader couldn't find the words to describe the experience of hearing Padme admit to her indiscretions. He had long known of Obi Wan's duplicitous nature, and suddenly the reason for the Council's refusal to fully trust and accept him became clear. Yoda had known all along of his allegiance to Palpatine; perhaps he had known that Palpatine was the Sith Lord. If that were the case, Darth Vader reasoned, he not only knew about Padme and Obi Wan but was actively protecting them. The thought disgusted him, _enraged_ him. Why was Obi Wan, the father of Padme's unborn children, worthy of protection while Anakin had been made to suffer? It wasn't fair!

Padme was pleading with him then, her feet hanging centimeters off of the ground while Vader held his thumb and forefinger in precariously close proximity to each other. Silently gasping for breath, her brown eyes darted back and forth as the oxygen supply to her brain was quickly cut off. Just as the palace guards began to take notice of the commotion and rush forward to aid their former queen, Darth Vader came to his senses and ended the assault, using the power of the dark side to jettison him back into the cockpit of his fighter. In seconds, he piloted the headhunter away from the landing pad and re-emerged into the safety of the endless, harrowing black of space. The young Sith could not seem to isolate any particular thought, instead toggling the autopilot feature for the duration of the return trip to Coruscant. As the metropolitan planet materialized in realspace, the dark side spoke; the very stars in their endless order against the swirling black, beckoning to the one who would tame their wild courses and all the beings who dwelt between them, crying with the voices of a thousand Sith who came before:

_Sidious._

_ _ _

 

_ _ _

It was ironic that a blaster was the weapon ultimately responsible for the death of General Grievous. Obi Wan tossed the ebony firearm onto the ground, mumbling to himself.

"So uncivilized." The fighting continued, but the sounds of blaster bolts whizzing through the air was so far away that it didn't pose an immediate threat. Summoning Boga, he rode quickly to return to Commander Cody.

"I thought that a Jedi was practically married to his light saber, General."

Obi Wan nodded, taking the weapon and clipping it onto his utility belt. "Thank you, Commander Cody. We don't have much time to waste - the battle still rages."

_ _ _

Yoda's head snapped up, his meditation abruptly ended by an intense sensation of forthcoming danger. Above him, the clone troopers flanking him offered quizzical glances. The aged Jedi Master simply narrowed his eyes, squinting across the view proferred by his current vantage. Chewbacca roared, seemingly in agreement of an unspoken comment; the battle showed no signs of slowing, and many had already died.

While there was some hope of victory, Yoda found himself wondering after the current state of affairs on Coruscant. His hand grazed the hilt of his light saber, the shroud of darkness noticeably draping itself over his consciousness, cutting him off from the ebb and flow of the Force. A chorus of one thousand Jedi, the essences of Qui Gon and all of those brave peacekeepers who perished in the battle to maintain the integrity of the Order and the sovereignty of the Republic hit him like a wave:

__

_Skywalker._


	8. Reviled No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontations and new names emerge following Anakin's final descent toward the dark. Sidious reveals himself to the Jedi at long last, and allegiances become definitive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10/21/15 - Chapter complete! Enjoy, ya'll, and thank you kindly for the comments. I will reply to you all as I am able!

"Master Windu, I have learned a terrible truth."

The stoic Jedi did not speak, instead staring straight into Anakin's eyes as if he already knew what he was about to say. He looked almost bored, as if whatever the young Knight wanted to tell him was ultimately of no consequence. Anakin knew better.

"Speak then, and do so quickly. We must ensure that Chancellor Palpatine relinquishes his emergency powers." Anakin nodded, matching Windu's long strides and not pausing to breathe. "Master Kenobi has deceived the Order. I believe that he is the Sith Lord, and that he is plotting treason against the Chancellor." Suddenly, Windu ceased his purposeful gait toward the waiting shuttlecraft, whirling around to face young Skywalker.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes; I have just returned from Naboo where I was informed by Senator Amidala of Obi Wan's treachery."

"Then it is as I feared; one of our own has fallen to the dark side. Remain in the Council chambers until we return. If what you say is true, you have earned my trust."

Anakin backpedaled, recognizing the window of opportunity to protect Palpatine. "Master, please permit me to accompany you to the Chancellor's apartments. I was his personal liason; he will readily accept a strong Jedi presence if I am there." Windu shook his head solemnly, reaching out with the Force to discern Anakin's true intentions but coming away with only a sensation of genuine concern. He dismissed it, waving Skywalker away.

"This is not a task for you, young Skywalker. Remain here - I will see you again soon."

Cursing, Vader watched as the dropship lurched away from the hangar. Finding a relatively private alcove in the hangar bay, he punched in a number on his wrist commlink and waited for Sidious to accept the transmission.

"Master, I've just returned from Naboo. Padme is -- "

"I know, Anakin. I know." If Vader hadn't known better, he would have that Darth Sidious sounded sad.

"Obi Wan has defeated General Grievous, and Windu is on his way to ensure that you give up your powers. There are four in total; three other Jedi I've never seen before."

"Trust in the awesome power of the dark side, Lord Vader. They are no match for its power; believe this." Anakin inhaled sharply, wanting to speak words of reassurance and encouragement but finding that no appropriate sentiment came to him. He was not as eloquent as either of his masters, but his silence told Sidious more than anything Vader could have said in that moment.

"Do not fear for me. I will summon you when they have been dealth with; in any case, it will take them time to get passed Amedda, Pestage, and the extra Red Guard I've posted. Remain in the Temple until called for."

Reluctantly, Vader relented. "Yes, my Master." Through the static, Vader heard Palpatine breathe a sigh of relief.

"Remain where you are, Lord Vader. All will be put right."

It had been lost on Darth Vader that he had spoken those exact words to Padme several standard hours prior. Turning on his heel, he stalked back toward the Council chambers to await his Master's orders. Beyond the horizon, the setting Coruscanti suns offered a fitting backdrop of violent hues of bold colors as a temporary reprieve from the constant rain. On this night, the city must burn.

_ _ _

Darth Sidious beheld the plans for the massive battle station, his eyes glazed while he meditated in silence. Somewhere on the edges of his consciousness he could feel _them_ , that most righteous retinue of Jedi, coming for him. He had only a moment to retain the last of his former self before they came barreling through the door to make a spectacle of themselves and end the charade; end this life he had known - that he had _fallen for_.

He grimaced as the doors parted, activating the commpad on his chair and turning it to face his guests. The grimace quickly turned to a congenial, toothless smile.

"Master Jedi, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"By order of the Republic Senate, you are hereby relinquished of your emergency powers. The war is over." Mace Windu and three other Jedi were holding the hilts of their light sabers, though they remained extinguished. Palpatine sighed inaudibly, teeth grinding painfully. The time had come.

"I _am_ the Senate."

_ _ _

_You betrayed him._

There it was; that annoying voice in his head which seemed to sound eerily like Qui Gon. Whenever Anakin meditated, it was Qui Gon Jinn he seemed to conjure and consort with, but since he lied to Master Windu about Obi Wan, the gruff clipped diction was replaced with Palpatine's silken baritone.

It was only fair, Anakin told himself, that Obi Wan suffer the temporary inconvience of the lie he had told. It was a fabrication borne of a need to give Sidious more time to deal with the Jedi, and if the next several hours followed his master's course, Kenobi would be indisposed before Windu ever found out that Skywalker had lied. Besides, he reasoned as he stalked down the halls of the temple, was it not just for Obi Wan to suffer for his indiscretions? Even the Force ensured that those who caused pain eventually atoned for their actions - all Vader did was expedite the process.

The Council chambers were dark save for the waning light splashing into the circular room from the setting pair of suns. He made a calculated decision to sit in Mace Windu's designated chair, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees, hands cupping his face. He rubbed his eyes, massaged the tense and rigid muscles of his neck; he rose again, walking to the transparasteel window and looking out beyond the Forbosi district as far as he could see. He wanted to be wherever the problems of the galaxy were not; he fixed his gaze on a distant point and meditated, allowing the dark side to twist around him. He saw molten waves snaking against a shore of black soot and rock, heard familiar screams and wails of pain; he heard the words 'brother' and 'emperor'; followed by a faint echo from deep in that churning well of dark side energies, and he could barely make out a name:

_Luke._

He didn't realize that tears were rolling down his face until he noticed the sleeve of his robe was slightly damp. Changing the trajectory of his gaze, he fixed his eyes upon the Senate building. An image of Sidious writhing in pain, one final shove from the dark side, found him briskly walking before breaking out into a full sprint toward his waiting speeder, which he piloted at a breakneck pace to be at his master's side.

Darth Vader burst through the durasteel doors and ignored the corpses of the three Jedi laying on the plush red carpet. His light saber was already in hand, and he could barely register what he was seeing, let alone react to the events unfolding before him. He was outside of his own body, the Force controlling his corporeal form while he watched himself attempt to negotiate with Windu, who was pointing his lavender blade right at Sidious, who had fled the Jedi's advances only to find himself shoved in the corner between the broken transparasteel window and the wall.

_"Anakin, he's killing me! You have to help me!"_

"Master Windu, he must stand trial!

"He is too dangerous to live, Skywalker! Stand down!"

The last of Anakin Skywalker died in the Senate building that day. Whatever and whomever he had been before, whether informed by Sidious or the Jedi Order, suffered an irreparable and profound fracture. He lost his faith in the Jedi he had once admired, and saw Sidious in his true, evil form. From Sidious' fingertips came rivers of electric current, thin webs of blinding pain. Mace Windu struggled to stay conscious, his intention overshadowed suddenly by the need to stay alive, but he surged forward with surprising offensive accuracy, coming perilously close to Sidious. Vader knew that he had to do something, _anything_ to turn the tide in favor of one or the other. There was no time to think.

Anakin ignited his blue blade and sliced it cleanly through Windu's sword hand, causing the limb and weapon to fly out of the window. That maneuver gave Sidious enough time to recover, summoning all of his remaining energy to unleash one last peal of Force lightening so strong it picked the Jedi up and jettisoned him from where he had been standing, sending him hurtling through the air and down the sublevels of Coruscant to his death. Vader dropped to his knees, sweat pouring, mouth hanging open in shock and awe. He looked toward Sidious, who seemed as if he had suddenly aged one hundred years in the last several minutes. Vader nearly wretched when he noticed the dramatic crags in his forehead, the way his skin seemed to hang from his bones; his eyes glowed brightly with the power of the dark side, but his face was pale and impossibly drawn.

There was no time to question what had happened. Darth Vader dropped to his knees, crawling toward his master with rickety, jerking movements. He helped Sidious to his feet, then collapsed again when he attempted to walk toward the door. Palpatine - no, Darth Sidious - let out what Vader thought was a humorous guffaw.

Anakin turned to him, his robe pooling out around him. Sidious nodded in approval as Vader drew up on knee, leaning on it slightly as he regained his composure. The aged Sith Lord knew that his apprentice had in fact fostered affection for his Jedi brethren, and he was benevolent enough to let the boy reacclimate.

"You will become a powerful Sith."

"Yes, my master."

"Do you renounce your previous vows, severing all ties to your former life, to serve the Order of the Sith until the Force claims you?"

"I do swear."

There was time enough for a breath; Sidious considered that, with Obi Wan being the father of Amidala's unborn children, 'Vader' was no longer a fitting title for this new Sith Lord. It didn't take him long to choose a new name for his most valuable weapon in his new Empire.

"Arise, Darth Revilus. You are reviled by the Jedi no longer, and I claim you as Sith and as my own."

The newly named Sith Lord rose, his eyes for all the galaxy burning like a flaming field of Ithorian wheat. Sidious beamed.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

_ _ _

_"Commander Cody, the time has come. Initiate Order 66."_

"Yes, m'Lord."

Emperor Palpatine flicked his wrist, ending the transmission. He caught Darth Revilus' eyes, his eyebrows steepled into a concerned and pathetic expression.

"I know that my appearance is. . . disturbing. This is the cost of using the human body as a conduit for concentrated dark side energies." Palpatine threw the black cowl over his head, shielding most of his face. Revilus saw only one dimly outlined cheek, a prominent nose, and a faint amber glow cast from his newly hued eyes. Sidious hummed lightly, satisfied with the bodies of the Jedi strewn about and the falling rain which was, Revilus realized, not falling _into_ the office due to those same dark side energies.

Sidious had strongly suggested that the reborn Anakin change from the dark browns of his Jedi robes to a nearly identical, black variant. Revilus has complied, throwing the thick black robe over his shoulders. That simple change, as perhaps Sidious had foreseen, made Darth Revilus feel much more at ease in his new role. His boots were knee-high and black; the gauntlets were made of heavily reinforced syntheleather which, oddly, were fire resistant. Sidious was particularly concerned about Revilus' next mission and had planned accordingly.

"You realize what you must do now."

Revilus nodded. "The Jedi filth must be purged. Their evil will not see the light of a new day."

"Show no mercy, Darth Revilus. When you are finished, I have some - remnants - on Mustafar I would like you to deal with. Spare no one; allow the dark side to inform your very breath."

The reborn Sith nodded. "It will be done, my lord."

"Go then."

Both men hesitated for a moment, Palpatine wanting desperately to tell Revilus that the deformity was only temporary; but how could he know? The currents of dark side powers that had coursed through his body moments before could have caused irreparable damage - damage which, if he used this to his advantage, could mean increased leverage in passing the Military Creation Act. Revilus' continued affections wouldn't even be worth losing that advantage.

"Master, do not worry. I will. . . get used. . . to this."

Darth Revilus, as he had so many times before, made for a fast and elegant exit. Palpatine, the new Sovereign, followed his purposeful gait with more longing than he ought.

_ _ _

Falling. His body was weightless, the air whistling through his tunic and the sounds of blasterfire mingling with his own ragged breathing as the ravine several hundred meters away seemed to open wider to swallow him whole. He was careening through the air toward the canyon below, the water rushing up to greet his twisting body - hard as cortosis, the impact knocked the air from his lungs and a sharp pain shot up to his teeth from his left leg. Before he closed his eyes, he saw Boga's lifeless body floating to the bottom of the flooded chasm in slow motion.

There hadn't been time to process what had happened, but Obi Wan knew that both Jedi and clone troopers alike had been attacking him. There had also been no time to call upon the Force to discern the root of those actions, and now the only thing he could do was use the remaining strength he possessed to return to his ship and, against Qui Gon's behest, go to Padme.

Kenobi used the Force to quell the searing pain in his leg, swimming to the surface and painstakingly climbing back up the rock face. To his amazement, the comm unit he carried was still operational.

"R4, this is Obi Wan. Do you copy?" A low, soft series of chirps met his query, and Kenobi smiled. "Please meet me at the coordinates attached to this transmission. It's going to be close, but I think that we can get out of here."

While he waited, Kenobi drew himself into the Force, wrapping it around him like a blanket. The pain in his leg had been reduced to a dull roar, and for the first time since leaving Coruscant, he drew on the discerning majesty of the light side to inform his next decisions.

Someone gave an order for the Jedi to be eliminated; someone powerful from within the Republic who wanted the peacekeepers out of the way. Who would want that, and what would be their motivations for purging the Jedi Order?

Kenobi saw the wing tip of his fighter barreling toward him, dodging blaster bolts as R4 executed a series of evasive maneuvers. The compact starfighter positioned itself well underneath Obi Wan, who let go of the rock face at just the right moment, the cockpit hatch closing around him immediately.

"Program a hyperspace course for Naboo, R4. We aren't returning to Coruscant just yet." The astromech wailed, but complied after some protest. As Pau City grew smaller, Obi Wan's communion with the light side grew dim. He knew that he was disobeying Qui Gon's strong urging, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Padme alone while he returned to Coruscant. Who knows what would happen; there was a nagging, persistent feeling that if he didn't make haste, their brief reunion on Naboo would be the last time he laid eyes on her.

_ _ _

For the first time in his advanced years, Yoda felt fear. He was increasingly uncomfortable experiencing an emotion so unique to the dark side, but given what he had just witnessed it would be impossible even for the most adept Jedi to quiet the dread rising in his throat. He coughed a bit, causing Chewbacca to look down at him questioningly.

"Nothing it is. Hurry we must if the clone troopers we are to evade." Chewbacca howled in agreement, the furtive tone of his vocalizations almost heartbreaking. It was most certainly unnerving for Yoda to feel these things, yet he made no attempts to draw upon the Force to clear his mind. Part of being Forceful, Yoda's master had told him, was to sometimes accept emotions at face value rather than dilute or temper them with the Force. With the Clone Wars over and a new threat obviously rising to take its place, now was the time to allow judicious mourning. The Jedi Master cringed when he remembered the knowledge he had imparted upon young Kenobi regarding grief: _Mourn him, do not. Miss him, do not._ How foolish that had been.

Concealed by the tall grasses of the plains on Kashyyyk, an emergency pod waited for the Jedi to step inside. Chewbacca and his compatriot, a taller and impossibly barrel-chested wookiee, emitted vibrating, grumbling protestations. They did not want to see him go, but they knew that he was no longer safe with them. The battle would be long and bloody, and losing Yoda was not an acceptable risk given current events. The door of the pod opened, and Yoda hesitantly stepped inside after trading knowing glances with each of his tall, fur-covered guards.

"See you again I may not. I - " Yoda stopped, a sudden wellspring of emotion beginning to overtake him. In that moment he recognized why the Jedi Order had become almost obsolete; attachment _does_ and _should_ mean something; rejecting those things was a rejection of the Force itself. He fell to one knee in the pod, Chewbacca stepping forward to help but Yoda waved him off.

"Forever shall I remember you. Fight well, you must. May the Force be with you."

The hatch closed, and the pod took flight into the night sky. Yoda had the entirety of a six hour flight to Coruscant to search his feelings, but he already knew: Skywalker had fallen to the dark side because of the antiquated tenets of the Jedi Order; Obi Wan Kenobi was about to do the same. Yoda had failed not just in one way, but in all ways.

The tears flowed freely in all corners of the galaxy that night, but none charged with as much regret as Yoda's.

_ _ _

Across the grounds, rooms, and corridors of the Jedi Temple, the bodies of younglings lay - their heads cocked at odd angles, torsos painted with blood from blaster fire or the charred and soldered blackness of saber burns. The clone troopers who had been sent to help him carry out the purge of the Temple also lay scattered in a tangle of limbs, their helmets removed so that Revilus could see their faces while he drained the life from their genetically modified bodies. That hadn't been part of the plan, of course, but Darth Revilus knew that his master would not begrudge him that one indulgence.

He left the Temple alone and unflanked, calling upon the concealing powers of the dark side to ensure his path to his obsidian headhunter would be clear. The landing pad was completely barren save for the two essential personnel who would clear him for takeoff. Climbing inside of the familiar cockpit, he programmed the coordinates into the navicomputer himself - the matching astromech would not be accompanying him this time.

Revilus had a bad feeling about Mustafar; Sidious had described it as _seismically volatile_ and cautioned him against any extraneous heroics. He had simply nodded in agreement, feeling even as he did that something more than shrewd neimoidians awaited him.

Timidly, Darth Revilus reached out through the vast emptiness to seek one specific Force signature. Oddly, Obi Wan was quick to reply - as if he were goading his former padawan. Revilus retracted, shrouding himself in the dark side and protecting his own mind from any of Kenobi's probing. He was on Naboo, with Padme.

He tells himself as the Corellian fighter prepares to enter hyperspace that it doesn't matter; Obi Wan could have Padme. What he and Sidious would create far outweighed the joy he had experienced with Amidala on their best days, but there was certainly a small part of him alive with jealousy - something he knew would fuel his hatred on Mustafar. Of course, there was more to his relationship with his master, and that too could be used as fuel to throw on Kenobi's blazing inner turmoil. Revilus smiled wickedly as he emerged into real space, Mustafar's burnt orange glow beckoning him.

_ _ _

"Where is he, Obi? Tell me."

Kenobi stared straight ahead, quieting his thoughts. Anakin had just reached out through the Force, and he had replied; but there was something gravely wrong. His former padawan was profoundly in tune with the dark side, and had retracted his mind just as Obi Wan had begun to decipher his thoughts and intentions - though not before he discovered where Anakin was going.

"Mustafar. It's a violent planet once controlled by the Trade Federation. Whoever the Sith Lord is, they sent Anakin there."

"We have to go to him!"

"Padme, you are in no condition to travel. If Anakin is as troubled as I've been lead to believe, there's no telling what sort of state he'll be in." The Jedi Master knew that his pleas fell on deaf ears. "There is nothing to be gained by going to him. Let me handle it - you would only get in the way." He knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

"'In the way'? You do realize that he is my _husband_ , I am his _wife_ , and I know him better than anyone else in the galaxy. He will listen to me."

The former senator's sudden and raucous display of confidence was jarring and irritating. How could she know Anakin better than his master? Perhaps she knew the most fundamental parts of him, the least complex - and of course, she knew him intimately as well - but she did not know the _depths_ of Anakin Skywalker.

Padme sat down on a well-appointed chais, drawing her legs up toward her swollen abdomen. Kenobi sucked in his breath watching her, stunning in a white shimmersilk robe. She looked like an angel - the exact word Anakin had used to describe her so many years before. "We went to Tatooine before coming to rescue you. Anakin had been having dreams about his mother, that she was in danger. I knew that he had to go to her, so we left Naboo against your orders. When we got there. . ." Amidala's voice thickened, and she cleared her throat before continuining, swallowing the emotion that was making her larynx begin to rise, "It was too late. She died shortly after Ani found her; h-h-he killed them all. Men, women, and _children_."

Kenobi was genuinely speechless. "I see."

"You may well be his Jedi master, but you are not the master of his heart. Only I have ever been able to claim that title. I know him as well as the halls of Theed, the ancient language of my people - Naboo itself. I know him, and I know the evil that resides within him. Do not presume that because I am a senator or a woman or his _secret spouse_ that I do not know who Anakin Skywalker truly is; that could not be further from the truth, if there is any left to be found in the galaxy."

Obi Wan rose slowly, shrugging on his brown robe. "I am so sorry." It was all he could think to say. Besides, he truly was sorry; sorry for whatever would come next, sorry for what Padme had lost because of her love for Anakin.

"I loved him too." Would Padme Amidala ever know the extent? Kenobi found that he could say no more. Theed's one-time queen nodded regally, her face a shadow of the expressionless visage it had been during her reign. Kenobi suddenly felt as though he were in court with a matriarch rather than a lover. He shuddered slightly in response to the sudden formality between them.

"I know" she whispered. "Do what you must."

As Kenobi hovered over Mustafar several hours later, he knew that Padme had given him permission. It felt like a betrayal; as if he were deciding between a man he loved and a woman he worshipped. The choice would be made on that unforgiving planet, and only one man would emerge the victor.

_ _ _

"B-b-b-but Darth S-s-sidious pr-promised us **peace**!"

"I am not Darth Sidious."

A no-nonsense diagonal slash with his saber fell the stammering neimoidian, and within minutes Revilus had cleared the room. The sound of bodies hitting durasteel had become a symphony, their cries of pain and furtive begging were as percusive as Corellian war drums. It had begun to sound the same to Darth Revilus, and after the second wave of younglings in the Temple, the novelty of their deaths had evaporated. He was a killer, a stone-cold and heartless extension of his master.

"Master" Revilus mumbled under his breath. The thought of Sidious sent a rocking shiver through him, rattling his spine and causing his teeth to chatter in spite of Mustafar's oppressive heat. Even in his current state, Anakin was disgusted to admit that he was still horrifically attracted to his emperor. There would come a time at the end of this mission when a lull could be found; perhaps after he passed the Military Creation Act, there would be time enough to draw the cowl away from that deeply scarred face and kiss away the wounds Windu had inflicted; when they would be able to combine their dark side essences into that storm of passion Sidious had spoken of. Revilus felt himself harden at the thought, willing away his suddenly strong urge to go back to his ship and straight to Darth Sidious just as the holopad began to signal an incoming transmission. Darth Revilus genuflected immediately.

"Master. As you can see" he gestured to the bent and broken corpses littering the ground "the leftovers have been taken care of."

"You have done well, Darth Revilus. Everything is moving along perfectly."

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

"Beware, my young apprentice. You must be on your guard; I sense danger forthcoming. Do not leave the planet until I call for you again."

Revilus frowned deeply but did not offer a rebuttal. "Yes, my master."

The blue and black figure of Sidious disappeared and the transmission ended, Revilus still on his knee. His mind worked quickly, reaching out again to seek out the source of the misgivings his master had mentioned. It didn't require him to call upon the Force to recognize that Obi Wan Kenobi was close; that engaging his former master would be his final and true test before he could rightly call himself Sith.

He rose, walking out to the promenade overlooking the tumultuous lava rivers flowing near the old Trade Federation building in which he had eliminated the last of the organization's top brass. His mind wandered to the duel with Ventress.

_"Skywalker, end this base charade. You know as well as I that the dark side is coiling around you and that you are letting it. Don't draw this out; accept who you are! Join us and truly bring balance to the Force!_

_"I am a Jedi Knight, and you are Sith. That makes you an enemy to the Republic, which makes you my enemy. Surrender and perhaps I will spare your life._

_"Maybe I was mistaken; the Council is right not to trust you. It was foretold that you are the Chosen One, but your mind is clouded with visions of - mother. How quaint and disgustingly predictable."_

He had charged her then, his offensive assault almost too much for Ventress to deflect in time. She had lost her footing and fallen headfirst through one of the Massassi temples, breaking through the weather-worn roof and landing in a bundle of old but dangerously live wires. The stench of her cooking flesh was still fresh in his nostrils. He would never forget what he said to her in those next moments:

_"I **am** the Force, Ventress. The galaxy bends to my will and whim; including you."_

Asajj Ventress had watched in horror as Anakin used the Force to call her light saber to his own hand, igniting it only partially, and sliding the tip slowly over his own eye. Skywalker let out a savage wail as the skin split, blood pouring down his face and into his mouth. Drunk on rage and the fever of combat, Anakin's eyes rolled back into his head as he hungrily drew his tongue over his lips to lap up his own blood. When he smiled, Ventress nearly gagged; his eyes were glowing as Tyranus' did, but between his white teeth were small pockets and smears of his own blood. The sight of his display was paralyzing; that gory grin was the last thing she saw before passing out from terror and pain.

Now, the time had come for one more similar encounter. Kenobi was an accomplished swordsman; not at all the amateur Ventress had been. Revilus decided that using the foreboding landscape on Mustafar would itself be a powerful strategy in the forthcoming battle.

He sank into a meditative state once again, this time remembering the last coupling he had enjoyed with Obi Wan.

_"You are beautiful, Anakin. So pure, so lovely. . ."_

_"Thank you, Master Obi Wan."_

Kenobi liked it especially when his young padawan ran his splayed fingers over the expanse of his back, kneading the muscles beneath his fingertips, squeezing and exploring his master's pliant but firm flesh. The vision was much less clear than the one with Ventress; angrily, Revilus willed it away. He found that he couldn't even bring himself to think of Padme; in many ways, her betrayal hurt most of all. Anakin had known that he fell short of perfect grace - he knew that he was petulant at best, and those childish outbursts of jealousy ended up pushing Padme away from him and into the arms of Obi Wan. Tears began to fall from his golden eyes then, and he vowed to make Kenobi suffer greatly.

The magma river below continued to churn beneath him, labor droids swinging their massive mining pikes. It was there that he would baptize Kenobi with fire. It would not be a devastating blow from a light saber that would end their battle, although in the end they would both lie in ruin with burns from those weapons as well.

Darth Revilus closed his eyes one more time, his heart falling into the rhythm of combat, his blood coursing through his veins propelled by the Force. Obi Wan Kenobi had just landed on Mustafar.


	9. The Fire Winding Around Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darth Revilus and Obi Wan Kenobi finally duel on Mustafar, but the end is not what either of them anticipate. In a moment he had not planned, Darth Sidious makes yet another mistake. Revilus goes to Padme's funeral and learns the truth behind his creation; Palpatine faces the depths of his depravity for the first and last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal was to foreshadow a bit after the harrowing end to the duel on Mustafar. I am planning on hashing out what I want to happen with Luke and Leia in the next chapter, so don't worry about a hole concerning those two in this one!

Darth Sidious, Dark Lord of the Sith and newly self-appointed Emperor of the Galactic Empire, frowned when he realized that he was standing on the exact balcony he had when the Clone Wars began. He had watched until each of the destroyers had been filled with rank upon rank of clones; he had allowed himself to cry then, knowing that his dream would see realization. His tears were spent now; his ambitions had finally become reality, but that moment when he had stood before the Senate to declare the new order had not afforded him the elation he had anticipated. The emptiness -- at Darth Revilus' almost too easy eradication in the Jedi Temple and the fact that the young Sith was not at Sidious' right hand as he ought to have been -- was ruining what the sovereign had always assumed would be a triumphant and shared moment. Like he had so many times before, Revilus left his master in a state of confusion and pining angst. Sidious cursed himself for the weakness while also savoring it; he would see Revilus soon enough, and they would have their. . . moment.

"I have seen enough." Mas Amedda nodded slightly, the surprised expression passing over his cerulean features before Sidious could think to scold him for it. "What do you wish, my Emperor?"

"To be left alone. Go; there is much to be done." Palpatine waved him away, and with a slight bow his vizier departed. On the edges of his awareness, Sidious felt a presence making its way through the bowels of the Senate building. Sidious briefly considered the possibility that Revilus had returned, but he would not have come unless his master had called. Curiosity overtaking him, Palpatine turned away from Coruscant's waning suns to await the wayward visitor in his octagonal sublevel office. Bowing as he passed, the Red Guard stood silently on either side of the large room. Palpatine, suddenly quite fatigued, sank into his large command chair and swiveled it so that he could enjoy a few final beats of the sunset. It wasn't until the exact moment that Yoda caused the two guards to crumple to the floor that Darth Sidious felt it, many standard hours after Revilus, Kenobi, Yoda, Amidala had: regret.

_ _ _

Obi Wan Kenobi shrugged off his voluminous robe before departing; even on the temperature controlled ship, he could feel the cloying insistence of Mustafar's heat. And, he noted soberly, he could feel _Anakin_. The essence of his former padawan was a white hot orb of rage, anger, and sadness - and it was all aimed toward a single source. Drawing on the Force to calm his nerves, Obi Wan debarked the vessel and set foot on the sweltering planet, knowing even then what he had to do.

_ _ _

"He will become more powerful than both of us."

Yoda recoiled. It was probably the most truth that would ever emit from the former Chancellor's lips, and it was a disgusting truth. He found himself nodding in reply, offering nothing other than slitted, determined eyes as he attempted to deflect the ongoing attacks from his opponent. Sidious was busy hurling senate pods in Yoda's direction, hoping that the miniscule but powerful Jedi would lose his footing and tumble to the bottom of the senate hall.

One of the pods connected with the one Yoda was occupying in just the right way; he heard Sidious' bone-chilling cackling as he fell, dragging his aching body away from the scene of the fight. He had failed.

_ _ _

Darth Revilus met his former master on the landing platform, having watched the descent of his ship and waiting until the right moment to catch him unaware. As he had anticipated, Kenobi's thoughts were muddied and lost in obscure reverie; not even he could untangle the web of convoluted thought in his old master's mind.

"Anakin!" A familiar voice, clear as bells and strong as durasteel, rang out and reached Revilus before the form of Obi Wan could. There, standing in the dim light of the ship, was Padme. His breath caught in his throat.

"Padme!" He ran to her then, enclosing her small frame in his arms, his black cloak swirling around them. "Why are you here? Did Obi Wan tell you where I was?"

"Ani, he can help you. I told him about our marriage, about who you are. He wants to help us." Darth Revilus scowled, pushing her out of his embrace.

"When did he. . ." He could say no more, but Padme had anticipated the question.

"You were away on a mission, Ani. He had comforted me. . . I was so alone. . ." The vacant expression in her eyes at that moment sickened the Sith Lord, and he removed his robe angrily as Obi Wan drew near.

"You betrayed me!"

"You betrayed yourself!" Kenobi cried out above the din created by the lava nearby. Revilus shook his head, dark hair matted down and his eyes beginning to glow once more; his bearings gone, his ability to see beyond the pain a distant paradoxical memory. All that was in that moment was the heat - the heat of his own hatred, the heat of passion, the heat of battle. He knew then what he had to do.

"I have created a new empire; where peace will reign and all that was will pass away in an era of prosperity" he looked up at Padme, his golden eyes pleading, "and you can join me." Padme's face melted, and suddenly she understood the weight of her own words. When she had told Kenobi that she had known Anakin was evil, she had not seen any evidence of madness until now.

"A new empire? Anakin, please; stop this! Come away with us and we can make this right --"

"You carry his child. What was supposed to be _our_ child. How could you?"

Abruptly, Revilus turned to Kenobi. "You know what she did, don't you? Search your feelings, _Master Jedi_."

Obi Wan fell to his knees, a sudden swimming vision of black and gold melding with smooth, supple, familiar lips. A face materialized so quickly he almost didn't catch it - ice blue eyes and a pert mouth set against pale, almost inviting skin. He wretched.

"Now you see. If you are not with me, then you are my enemy."

On his knees, Obi Wan Kenobi softly replied, "I will do what I must."

Turning back to a slack jawed Amidala, Anakin drew his hatred around him and raised his hand. Slowly, the air was squeezed from her lungs. She could hear Obi screaming, see his blurry form charging at Anakin and the blue blade of her husband's light saber ignite before her vision became black and she heard no more.

_ _ _

Yoda had almost defeated him. His old master's voice, that gravelly timbre for which all Muuns are known, eeked into his mind as he readjusted his hood and slinked away from the senate floor.

_"You fought over that insolent child you call an apprentice. How far you have fallen from that lofty perch you have ruled from until now."_

He shook his head quickly, willing the voice away by centering himself in the dark side. Darth Sidious would need all of the concentration he had left in his damaged tissue to thwart what he felt was an impending disaster with each step he took. He sensed. . . heat; torment, pain. _Children_.

Darth Revilus was in trouble.

_ _ _

"I love her, Anakin. Can you honestly say that you know what love is?"

"I love my master. Is that not the same?"

He struck a blow with the icy blade he had created from a saber crystal Obi Wan had helped him find. His mind's eye flashed to that day; it would be the first in a long string of near-death situations from which the young padawan would deliver his master. The thought of Kenobi's weakness only fueled the riotous attacks he leveled at the Jedi Master. For Revilus, there was no love between he and Obi Wan; the tenderness they had shared was overshadowed by the bitterness of betrayal.

"I knew there was darkness in you, Anakin. Jealousy, rage; why did you not turn to me?"

Revilus laughed, a sound Kenobi found disturbing. "I found someone else. Someone who shares my point of view."

For a moment, Kenobi lost his concentration. "Palpatine? You really think he has more to offer you than I, after everything we've been through?"

"All of that and more." Anakin thrusted, passing his blade through Kenobi's shirt and causing the skin beneat to rupture. The smell of boiling flesh greeted him like a long-forgotten lover, and he reveled in a momentary upper hand. Taking advantage of Kenobi's compromised position, he moved forward and kicked him squarely in the stomach, sending the Jedi tumbling down dangerously close to the ravine of slow-moving lava. Kenobi recovered faster than Revilus would have liked, using the Force to propel him from the prone position and onto the top of a prospecting platform. Revilus, not to be outdone, ran and hurled himself into the air in just enough time to secure his own footing on the platform before Kenobi gathered himself enough to fight again.

For what seemed like an eternity, the master and the one-time apprentice battled furiously. When it became apparent that the platform was going to descend a sharp downward slope and get precariously close to the deadly river, Kenobi responded by jumping backward and onto a single-lobe mining droid. Revilus once again matched him, standing atop the cranial compartment of the droid looking every bit the war hero he had been at one time. The sight almost caused Kenobi to break down completely, but he steeled himself. He had, for all intents and purposes, won the duel; he had the higher ground. Anakin extinguished his lightsaber for a moment, undoubtedly surveying his position and calculating his next move. Even for one so gifted in the Force, and especially after his unfetted use of the dark side, it would be impossible to cover the ground he needed in order to reach Obi Wan. The smugness Kenobi displayed remained unchecked; he wanted his former padawan learner to know that he had lost. Whatever happened beyond this moment would be a macchination of the Force itself.

"It's over, Anakin. I have the high ground."

"You underestimate my power!"

"Do not do this. Don't give in to hate, Anakin!"

He knew that nothing could stop this man before him from trying. In slow motion, Anakin jumped. Kenobi ignited his light saber.

It seemed to stretch on into the unknown regions of the galaxy only to wind its way back like the lazy turning of a bit of space debris, hurling over itself for lightyears. The Force, more powerful and less benevolent than time or intention, moved to protect that being it had created. Shock, pain, and dismay would be painted on Kenobi's face until his death. There was nothing that would have prepared him for what happened next.

Anakin's jump was successful, though the mechanics of it seemed impossible. Kenobi didn't have time to calculate the odds; he felt a sharp pain in his kidney as his legs buckled, knees on fire as they dug into the flaming hot coals. The scene before him turned upside down, then righted itself, then upside down, then righting itself once more as the end materialized before him.

Darth Revilus, Dark Lord of the Sith, stood on the precipice Obi Wan had only seconds before. Looking down at him, the man he once loved and cherished above all others in the galaxy, tears streamed unabetted from eyes the gold had completely eclipsed of their whiteness. He looked inhuman, this Sith. Kenobi howled in pain as his consciousness stretched back over his burning, wretched, twisted body.

"You were supposed to bring balance to the Force! You were the Chosen One!"

"I have done what I was fated to do, my _master_."

Kenobi felt the clawing menace of the dark side crawling up his throat. "I HATE YOU" he screamed, attempting to pull his body up the smoldering bank. His belly was on fire with the white hot coals beneath it. With one movement of his index finger, Revilus ticked Kenobi further down the bank until the heat from the lava centimeters beneath his feet ignited his robes. The man's cries of torment were music to Revilus; the swan song of justice. He smiled.

Bending down, Darth Revilus picked up Kenobi's light saber. He turned to leave, but felt a distinct tug to turn around and look at Obi Wan Kenobi one last time. When he did, his own feelings betrayed him. Like Yoda, Sidious, Kenobi, Amidala, and everyone else who would know the truth, a wellspring of regret burst forth and brought him to his knees. Even the heat of the coals atop his perch were hot; he briefly wondered what his now-unconsciousness Kenobi felt like, laying in ruin both in body and soul.

It was well-deserved, anyway. When he turned around again, his commpad began to furiously blink. Sidious was summoning him as promised.

_ _ _

The clone pilots were quick and exacting in their task, guiding the lambda-class cruiser to its destination as quickly as Sidious had requested. Even so, their speed seemed inadequate; he knew that he was being irrational.

"Sir, readings detect a life form three clicks away."

Darth Sidious reached out with the Force and felt immediate relief, then intrigue.

"Take us down, Commander. We must get to him immediately."

As ordered, the pilots lowered the vessel and landed smoothly. Sidious, far more spry than his whithered appearance would suggest, shot up from his passenger seat and was the first to debark.

His yellow eyes scanned the bank until he saw it; the burnt and blackened form of a man on his back. He reached out with the Force again, and became increasingly unconcerned with Revilus' current whereabouts as he saw who it was. His face had almost been burned beyond recognition, but that well-manicured beard was still infuriatingly recognizable. Sidious let out a moan, low and menacing.

"How pitiful." He drew out every syllable, making it easier for Kenobi to understand him in his current condition. Sidious pressed one of his gray fingers into Obi Wan's chest, causing a gurgling cry to pour forth from burned lips. His lips curled in disgust.

"And so my young apprentice fulfills his destiny, but whatever shall become of you?" When the burned form beneath him offered nothing in reply, Sidious' mind searched for a possible solution. It didn't take long to arrive at a conclusion which seemed to greatly interest and please him.

Repeating his finger-to-the-chest move with markedly increased verve, Darth Sidious' lips parted as he stated plainly, with an almost bored quality: "Vader."

_ _ _

What happened next is not a matter of record in any Imperial database, nor can it be found in Sith lore. Emperor Palpatine would have the galaxy believe that Obi Wan Kenobi had escaped Mustafar alive that day, that he was a remnant of a lost age, and that he was a traitor to the Empire whose whereabouts were unknown. One may find, if one has the security clearance to do so, records indicating that Anakin Skywalker was a casualty of Order 66 and died in the same traitorous seige as has his other Jedi brethren at the hands of clone troopers. Padme Amidala is dispositioned as having died during childbirth, but the record is visibly corrupt in the sections where details about the birth would be kept.

Of course, there is nothing in the way of reports or investigations leading into the extensive and astronomical costs of medical facilities following what came to be known as The Battle of Fates on Mustafar. Following his extraction, Obi Wan Kenobi was silently shuttled to the Surgical Center on Coruscant. After a hastily commissioned design, it was decided that he would be encased in technologically unremarkable black armor with a life support system he would be bound to for the remainder of his miserable life. No part of his body would ever be visible to the public, and even in those brief moments in later years during which he would remove his famous helmet, he would be so scarred and deformed that none of those unlucky Imperial officers who laid eyes on his bare flesh would know who he was. Sidious would be greatly pleased with this triumph, and Darth Revilus, for his part, would remain a waxing and waning mixture of disgusted and impressed with his master's boundless cruelty.

Of course, the toxic mind-numbing drugs which made Vader compliant and docile would kill him long before anything else. He was steadfastly obedient to both Sidious and Revilus, an instrument of fear by intimidation in their arsenal to conquer the galaxy.

While Vader was potentially the greatest Sith acolyte ever created, Revilus' own transformation was not to be discounted. The goal, Sidious had explained, would be to augment his appearance so that he wasn't entirely recognizable to those who would remember the Clone Wars. His legs were elongated, his slight chest was reconstructed to be barreled and brawny rather than chiseled. Darth Revilus, through equally costly surgical procedures (in addition to his own work, of which he was vainly proud) morphed into a more broad, muscular version of himself. Darth Sidious insisted also that he cut his hair to a military regulation style, and his Sith robes were made by a precision tailor to accent his new physique. There would be variations of course as Revilus aged, but the look was always the same: black knee-length boots, dark gray dress trousers which were always impeccably starched, a black syntheleather doublet secured by a wide utility belt bearing a newly-constructed light saber with a crimson blade, and a dark gray tunic open at the neck underneath. His black, billowing robe adorned impossibly broad shoulders, accenting a muscular form and creating a dashing look when his hood was drawn; the square jaw and intense hazel eyes were often a point of hushed discussion between the lower ranks. What did Sidious see in this mysterious, large, imposing man? They were rarely seen together, but when they were the tension was tangible. No one would ever know the reality of what had created that tension; that too would be among the Empire's most carefully-guarded secrets -- while, in certain circles, being the most well-known.

Perhaps Darth Revilus' last act as Anakin Skywalker was to attend the funerary proceedings for Padme Amidala on Naboo. Sidious had been positively childlike when his lieutenant had brought up the possibility of attending, which had only increased his desire to do so. The mocking lilt in his voice as he berated Revilus for even considering it had been enough to propel him from his knee and out of the throne room, but what stopped him dead in his tracks were what sounded like sobs emanating from his master. He would never forget that day, for it served as the harbinger for the reason behind the Empire's cruel, tyrannical reign.

"You would go to her after _everything_ that has happened?"

"Master, you forget that you shared an intimacy with her before even I. Or is your memory feeble only when you are at fault? Besides, she is dead. There is no 'going to her' - and as you said, there was no redemption in her arms."

A single tear quickly slid out from under the cowl obscuring his master's face. "She controls you even in death. Was your secret love that powerful? How could you be so loyal to her in death, while in life you would dishonor the only one who has truly loved you?"

On that day, the Sovereign wept. Revilus tried to block out the sound of its wretchedness as he walked away, but that sound would prove unforgettable in the years to come. From that day forward, no one would truly sleep in the Imperial Center. Fear, pain, aggression, hatred; all of those things and more would creep into the Empire and twist it to fit its Emperor's personal agenda: To erase and eradicate all that Anakin had loved so that the only thing left was his master.

"Would you so easily forget your place?" Sidious made it sound innocuous, but Revilus knew better. "We aren't in the Senate Building anymore, _sweet child_." The use of an old term of endearment caused Revilus to stop. He slowly turned to face his master, taking a few steps to close the inordinate gap between them. Slowly, elegantly, he got down on one knee.

"There, now. This is what love is, Anakin. This is the picture of our perfect devotion. The most powerful, the most inspiring, the most _real_. Would you have this with anyone else?"

"No, my master."

"Padme?"

"No."

"Kenobi?"

There was no hesitation. "No."

Silence, then. The two men, master and apprentice, waited for the headiness of the moment to pass. Then, Darth Revilus drew a long, deep breath into his lungs and asked, his voice nearly as smooth and velvety as Palpatine's in his days as Chancellor: "What is thy bidding, my master?"

Darth Sidious closed his eyes, relishing the sound. His handsome commander, that young prodigy he had created, that sensual combination of talent and comeliness -- ah, would he to give all the galaxy to see that Revilus only spoke of him, only desired to be near him. That was the secret, wasn't it? That is why he created all of this - for Anakin. For Revilus. Sith and Jedi be damned, politics and Plagueis and anything else that had stood in his way.

He felt Darth Revilus depart for Naboo. As he did, he remembered something Darth Plagueis had said to him once while they were performing the ritual that backfired and created Anakin in the first place. He was embarrassed that his brilliant mind had never grasped the true meaning before, but he was certainly thankful for its clarity even then:

"You will find that the Force promotes and creates what we cannot admit we need. Not what we want; but what we need."

Darth Sidious, after that day, ruled with the merciless blackness of any Sith emperor before him. That would be enough to convince those around him, Vader included, that he was evil above all. Only Darth Revilus would come to know, throughout many years and many emotional couplings, the truth behind Kenobi's imprisonment and his own transformation. Everything he had ever done had been for Anakin Skywalker. If only those Imperial records had ever contained a fraction of that truth, perhaps the long road to ruin would never have been trod by any of those brave and broken souls at all - and Sheev would be lithe and blue-eyed and simply mad in all the right ways for the tall young Jedi with impossibly tousled hair and cockeyed grin.

After all, he had been created to be Sidious' equal; his partner.

For Plagueis had also said that day, "You deserve a black angel to sit at your right hand on the throne of darkness. So shall it be."

And it was. That had to be enough for them all.


	10. Sins of the Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darth Revilus discovers the whereabouts of Kenobi's son and kidnaps him. The blackened, venomous heart of the Empire is revealed to its topmost Moff Tarkin, who begins to unravel the twisted and depraved secrets of the lives of the former Galactic Republic's politicians and Jedi. The perversion is just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters may be a bit smaller now that I'm halfway through this novel-length fic. I wanted to separate the discovery of Luke and Leia, giving attention to each. Things are also going to get a bit more, um, fucked up. Buckle up, kids.

The first of Vader's missions were successful, though his own pain leaked out from under the heavy weight of his armor and began to stain everyone and everything around him in shades of black and red. He had brought down an entire temple around him, the near irreparable damage it did to his life support unit causing Sidious to panic and scramble to commission a new one. Upon his return to Coruscant, the Emperor was so displeased that he himself nearly ended Vader's life. The only thing that stopped him was the new plan that had formed while the dark warrior had been off world; a plan that would further his agenda of bringing Darth Revilus ever closer to him.

Vader of course had no idea that his children had been born and that Yoda, the ever-moving, ever-needling Master had separated them to ensure that they would never attract Palpatine's attention. Naturally, the moment their eyes adjusted to the artificial light of the birthing room and felt the cold air of the world around them, Palpatine was both aware of their existence and the threat they posed. However, Sidious had to admire the uncharacteristic pragmatism Yoda employed in separating them. Though their destinations were unknown to him, he began to dispatch Darth Revilus on several off world missions to track them down.

While the drama of cleaning up their old lives continued to unfold, Sidious set to work promoting Moffs to oversee the creation of a massive superweapon he had aptly named Death Star. Capable of destroying a planet with a single concentrated and powerful ion emission, this new weapon and mobile battle station would ensure that the Empire ruled with supreme authority. Revilus, between seiges to search for Vader's offspring, oversaw the massive project. Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin, once the governor of Eriadu, was appointed by the Emperor himself to assist whenever Lord Revilus was away - in the beginning, a common occurrence.

Sidious' temper was increasingly short, especially after the most recent of Vader's clumsy and sophomoric displays of angst. It was almost as if he were channeling Anakin during the Clone Wars. One day, during a briefing, Lord Sidious finally snapped.

"Do you think that it would be at all possible for you to conduct yourself in a way that is befitting the highest ranking commander of the Imperial Navy?"

Vader had been defending his most recent sin; the senseless killing of several diplomats from a small Outer Rim world who might have possessed sensitive information about the whereabouts of a small pocket of Jedi who had evaded Order 66. Emperor Palpatine, with visions of how long winded Kenobi had been, cut the former Jedi off before he could continue for much longer. In his mind's eye, Sidious could see through the tinted eyes of the mask that Vader was almost hurt. Delightful.

"What information we could have obtained is gone thanks to your recent indiscretions. I realize that you are still adjusting to your new _lifestyle_ , but you would do both myself and the Empire at large a service if you measured your petulant theatrics."

"Yes, my Lord."

"I want you to swear that such a thing will never happen again. There will be catastrophic consequences for you otherwise. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Now go. I expect you to depart for the _Executor_ immediately. Darth Revilus will meet you at the rendezvous point and you are charged with delivering him to me; that is, if I can still trust you with such menial errands anymore."

"I will not fail you, my Lord."

Palpatine's mouth turned down, its edges puckering disagreeably. "Take care that you don't."

Vader wisely made his exit with what Sidious perceived was a stunted, limping gait. His artificial limbs were a purposefully poor fit, and to those not aware it seemed intimidating. Sidious knew better; Kenobi was essentially an infant, learning how to roll, then crawl, then walk for the first time. The sight of it was so terrible, so _abjectly poor_ that it satisfied the Emperor in a way even Revilus couldn't.

Ah, Darth Revilus. Beautiful and square-jawed Anakin, so tall and gallant - handsome and deadly, just how Palpatine had always considered him. He spent his free time, what little he had, working on the physique which had earned him a reputation for being the most physically imposing character in the Imperial elite, second only to Vader. They had gotten passed that hiccup of disfigurement early on, their first encounter following that sordid business on Mustafar involving first the less intimate ambiance of the very throne on which he now sat before moving to the privacy of the royal bedchamber. It was no secret anymore, but even Tarkin didn't dare bring it up even in times when it was obvious what had transpired only moments before. There had been entire briefings during which Darth Revilus' arousal was evident while he droned on about engineering setbacks and material shipments, all while Palpatine smiled coyly beneath that great black cowl at both his young paramour and the horrified looks of the Imperial brass around the table in the briefing room. It was all a fictitious game, and no one knew but them. Their hilarious little secret that they would decadently laugh about as their bodies danced and heaved against each other in the dark while the Imperial Palace was asleep.

Vader was a useless, pitiful lump when it came to those times. Revilus, Sidious had discovered, invited the massive mechanical beast into one of their interludes and had derived great pleasure from watching the gnarled beast try to revive what little still existed below his waist. How the two Sith Lords had laughed as Kenobi's scarred and once-lovely face melted in anger and torment, how he stormed from the room with his helmet barely secured over his pallid scalp as they howled with laughter and came over and over and over again. They had constructed their own reality in which they were the principle players, and everything moved according to their twisted desires; for each other, for everyone around them. They were all players in a big game whose outcome was only known to them.

Sidious batted at his outstretched member, though any visitor would never know what was beneath those robes at present. What an unfortunate time to be so _prepared_ for Darth Revilus, when the promise of his touch was still so far away. Indeed, it would be another thirty six standard hours before they were once again reunited. It would be double that, most likely, before they were able to quit each other's company in order to accomplish anything of value.

Settling into his throne, the Sovereign moved his chair to face the large hexagonal transparasteel window looking out into the obsidian depths of space before him. Soon, the _Executor_ would materialize in real space, heralding the return of Darth Revilus - and, he noted sadly, the return of his own sanity. It had been far too long. It was always far too long.

_ _ _

Lord Revilus was certain that he had discovered where the boy had been sent, but to make certain for his report to Sidious he tasked himself with the child's extraction. No trooper could be trusted with such a sensitive mission, and it had been far too long since Revilus had done anything useful in the field. He was more than happy to rip himself away from endless administrative duties and actually get his uniform dirty. Secretly, he longed to feel the suns beating down on his back now that he was a free being; the heat had always seemed to enslave him all the more when he was a child. He wondered if the boy felt that way, as well.

Tarkin, ever the practical tactician, was unimpressed.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but I do not understand why you are prohibiting yourself from sending any number of the expert operatives to quickly and, most importantly, silently get this done. What if you are noticed?"

In truth, Revilus liked that quality about the new Moff; the ability to look at a situation and assess its risks before making a decision. Now was not the time to employ it, and the look Darth Revilus gave him illustrated as much. Obediently, Moff Tarkin stood at a modified attention while the two men silently appraised one another.

"Your concerns are valid, Governor. I am sure the Emperor would love to hear them in the briefing."

"Understood, my Lord. When shall I have the speeder prepared for your departure?"

That was probably the most endearing quality about Tarkin; he certainly wasn't slow to understand. "I will depart at nightfall. Alone."

"Yes, m'Lord."

"At ease." Tarkin cocked an eyebrow in mock surprise. "My Lord?"

"I would keep counsel with you, Governor Tarkin. Please sit."

Tarkin, being much smaller than Darth Revilus, sat down opposite the great Sith warrior who sat to a symphony of protestations from the plasteel chair. Of course he knew who it was underneath those hulking cords of muscle, but that didn't matter anymore. Anakin Skywalker in all of his arrogance would never have sought advice from Tarkin, but anything was possible these days. Revilus' blue eyes caught the light in an attractive way before he continued, his voice low.

"I have devised a special purpose for the boy."

"Oh?"

"Yes; the Emperor prides himself on his mentorship of the younger generation. If you will recall, he raised me to be what I am now. He would like another go at a similar situation while he is still in good health." It was no secret that Palpatine was suffering from being in such remarkable concert with the dark side. The effects were, of course, far less dramatic than what he would have his court believe, but they weakened him all the same. Revilus took a deep, shuddering breath before he went on.

"This child is the offspring of my former master. One of two children, in fact." Tarkin thought briefly that he had seen a fleck of gold in Revilus' eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.

"Kenobi?"

"Just the same."

"With whom? I had thought the Jedi were forbidden from personal relationships."

"They were. Padme Amidala was his lover, and she bore his children."

Tarkin tucked his fist under his chin, grinning as he leaned forward. "Remarkable. I never would have guessed that pompous fanatic had it in him." He added with genuine surprise "And _two_ children. Twins?"

"Yes." Revilus was, the Moff noticed, grinding his teeth with a truly murderous expression painted across his rustic features. In that moment, Tarkin saw how Palpatine had become so enamored of the young man.

"A boy and a girl, though the location of the girl is not known. I had spies deployed here from my days as a Jedi, and they were not difficult to convince when I came to them seeking help to discover the young boy. He will be on this ship by dawn, and then he will accompany me back to Coruscant to meet with the Emperor."

"What shall be his fate?" Tarkin was almost afraid to ask, his breath hitching in his lungs causing the last syllable to sound like a gasp.

"He will be. . . bait."

Tarkin shook his head. "I am afraid I don't understand, my Lord. Bait for whom?"

"His father" replied Revilus, who began laughing low under his breath. Tarkin too offered a few forced guffaws.

"Kenobi is still alive? Wasn't he killed when Order 66 was given?"

"From a certain point of view."

The pieces suddenly fit together. Even in the dim light of the military encampment, Tarkin could see the glee written across his superior's features. The effect was highly disturbing.

"You cannot possibly mean --"

"I do."

"That _thing_ is Obi Wan Kenobi?" The pieces made sense; the Empire had a habit of rewriting history of it didn't suit them, and it suddenly dawned on him why the existence of Kenobi would not be good for the Empire. At least, his **former** existence.

"If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will have you executed for treason."

Tarkin nodded. "Of course. Well, for what it's worth, I've had my suspicions. With the locations of the remaining Jedi known, it was odd that we hadn't discovered that of Obi Wan."

"I know why Sheev trusts you now; you are prodigiously perceptive, Governor."

He nodded at the use of the Emperor's first name, a rarity to be spoken aloud and given the beauty of the Nubian language, a true joy to hear when spoken by a practiced linguist. It had been rumored that Darth Revilus had learned the ancient tongue to please his master; a rumor which seemed to be grounded in some truth.

"I will help in whatever way that I can."

"As always, the Empire thanks you for your loyal and distinguished service."

Tarkin nodded, casting his eyes down toward the map of Tatooine's wastelands that had been programmed into the holotable before them. A red mark had appeared in a particularly rural section, one Basic letter: L.

"Luke", Revilus offered breathlessly. "His name is Luke."

Tarkin's mind began to furiously work. Why would the Sith Lord who was so feared and lauded by the Empire and the galaxy at large act as if this child were a threat rather than a simple mission, a cog in the machine? Impossible. . . but altogether probable, and definitely dangerous to even _think_ let alone ask aloud --

"Amidala. You and the late Senator Amidala were involved." Revilus' eyes bore into Tarkin's, and he knew that he was walking on dangerous and unsteady ground. Gathering his own strength, he pressed forward. "My Lord, forgive me. . ." Darth Revilus sighed, curling his arms forward and hugging his own gargantuan torso, the muscles of his chest flexing and spasming as he made himself seem much smaller. Tarkin knew better.

"There is nothing to forgive, Governor Tarkin. What happened between us is in the past; she is dead now. The dead have nothing to offer the living."

"Her child, my Lord. He is dangerous."

"Unless he can be persuaded by the Emperor to join the Empire, yes. This is why I must locate both he and his sister. They cannot be allowed to roam the galaxy."

He heard a _clunk_ in the back of his head as everything fit together perfectly like a Bothan cube puzzle. Kenobi had taken the only thing Anakin Skywalker had wanted above all else, and it hadn't been Padme but what she represented. A family, belonging; something Skywalker had never truly felt, even as a Jedi Knight. He recognized even still what a dangerous position he was in; he donned a look of tepid interest, hoping that it would be enough to illustrate to Revilus that this information would in no way affect him later - the truth was that it would keep him up at night for years to come, but for now he had to feign disinterest. Revilus seemed unaware of the mental war Tarkin was waging against himself.

"Of course, my Lord. I understand."

"Good. This conversation never occurred, Tarkin." He cleared his throat slightly before barking "Dismissed", and Tarkin rose and offered a stiff bow before turning on his heel and exiting the executive tent he had shared with Darth Revilus.

Sleep came to him after much tossing and turning; he imagined the kilometers passing underneath Darth Revilus' swoop bike as he charged across the desert to find and capture the young Kenobi. What would the child look like? Would he have those same baleful blue eyes, the rapier wit, that infuriating superiority?

The following morning, as the suns rose higher and higher and Tarkin relished the last moments of feeling crisp air against his skin from his uniform being undone at the neck, his questions were answered; and to his astonishment, the answers were not at all what he had anticipated.

_ _ _

"What is your name, boy?"

"Luke."

"And your surname?"

"I was told that I did not have one, sir."

"Very well."

Luke looked up at the hulking form of Darth Revilus, fear and an odd sort of wonder overtaking him.

"Who are you?"

"That will be revealed in time, child. Come with me."

The sandy-haired youth obeyed, pushed forward and onto the speeder by an increasingly impatient Revilus. "We will be curing you of this infuriating idleness."

"I'm not big like you. I'm just a kid."

"Silence, boy. You will become much more than that if the Emperor has his way."

"The Emperor?"

"Hush now. You belong to the Empire, Luke. From this day until the end of days."

Revilus would come to realize over the years that the mission had been simple because Luke had wanted to leave Tatooine. It would have been far less easy had he known what horrors his new life would bring upon him and his deformed father. Thus began the greatest sin in which Palpatine would ever indulge; and eventually, the one that would kill him.


	11. The Hand - Three's a Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader discovers a mysterious file and solicits the services of an old rival to help him. Luke narrowly avoids a lifetime of torturous close proximity to his father when Palpatine flirts with the light side as only a twisted Sith can and changes his mind. Revilus prepares to slip into obscurity and make history as the only Sith to have ever loved and lost - and pretended to be someone else longer than even Darth Sidious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted Vader and Luke to get suuuuper close, but not too close. I hope this solution isn't clumsy. Read and let me know!

Vader removed his helmet after hearing the mechanical hiss of the the two halves locking together and waiting the cursory ten seconds before the airlock was secure. The automated tone reverberated quickly off of the white durasteel walls, signaling that his hyperbaric environment was completely purged of any impurities in the air quality. Gingerly setting his helmet on the smooth, cold surface, he sat down and powered off his life support system. He had twenty minutes to breathe of his own accord, to meditate, to revel in feeling human again -- if only for a short time.

Something had shifted in the Emperor's demeanor since the last time Darth Revilus had initiated a communique, and Vader had attempted to obtain the details to no avail. Whatever Revilus had found on Tatooine, it was of great import. Vader instinctively rubbed his thumb and forefinger along his chin and jaw, but the trademark beard was no longer there. He sighed, his lungs burning as they expanded and contracted. How he hated these nagging reminders of who he had become.

Vader shifted his thoughts back to the Palpatine. It was uncharacteristic of him, but his communications were clipped and rushed - his instructions were usually given personally, but he had been utilizing high-ranking Imperial proxies in his stead. If he didn't know better, Vader would think that the Emperor was _distracted_. All of his missions had been assigned by Moff Tarkin, and his lesser objectives proffered by lieutenants and captains. Why?

Before he could think better of it, Vader accessed his chamber's general terminal and entered in a command to search recent Imperial logs. The first search yielded maintenance reports - nothing interesting. The second included flight logs, personnel reprimands, promotions, demotions, and medical logs. The third and fourth searches required a security clearance key, which he hesitantly provided - if he felt inspired, the Emperor could easily see that Vader had attempted to dig around - but the fourth search pulled up an interesting, if scant, record.

_Adjutant's Log - Tatooine_

Vader's gloved finger hesitated before accessing the file. Closing his eyes, he called upon the Force to guide him. When the stale air of his sanctuary began to grow cold, he knew: that file contained the answers he was seeking, but how would he explain his meddling to the Emperor? Swallowing slowly, he opened the file. Only a small block of text greeted his hungry, scarred eyes, but he read it all. Several times.

_Imperial forces have discovered Luke's location. A detachment was deployed to retrieve the child and bring him back to base camp for evaluation and receiving prior to offworld transport. Darth Revilus has ordered that the only individuals cleared for contact with Luke are Moff Tarkin and himself._

He leaned back, unclasping the cape and removing the gray and black duraplast shoulder armor, allowing it to fall to the ground in an ebony heap. Stretching his abilities further uninhibited by the drugs from his suit, Vader began to perspire as he pushed his consciousness through several systems, the endless swirling static of the Force, searching and turning and colliding with everything until finally --

Anakin. Revilus. He recognized the incandescent glow, that amber ball of rage in his belly. His veins pressed against the thin skin of his temple and his head began to pound, but he continued. Luckily, he knew the sensation when he discovered it. It had to be him, it had to be. . .

A searing, white-hot pain engulfed his senses, but it was so short-lived that his discomfort barely registered. In its wake were images of completing his first light saber, a Nubian sunrise, the waterfall in the lake country, the cityscape of Coruscant before the war, Qui Gon's lips touching his - all of the good things his broken body and crippled mind had taken over. The essence of Luke was the essence of every good memory that Obi Wan Kenobi possessed. And it was right next to Revilus; they were so close!

Five minutes left before the chamber's environment would be compromised and he would have to don the helmet and armor once again. Leaning forward, he quickly keyed in a command to terminate his use of the security key. The logo of the Empire flashed over the black terminal, and his session was closed. Vader dressed himself, securing the helmet and opening the hatch of the chamber. As the mechanical arm overhead ensured that his helmet was properly positioned, he used the small holoport to contact the chief of engineering.

"I require the use of an astromech droid in my personal chambers. Send one immediately."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

He refastened his cape and exited the chamber, immediately opening the maintenance port in preparation for the droid. Minutes later, a black plated astromech rolled through the sliding durasteel doors, stopping just in front of the looming Sith warrior. It voiced a few questioning tones, and Vader nodded.

"Do you possess the ability to wipe a memory bank?"

A string of low-pitched hums was the answer.

"I understand. You will be doing the Empire. . . me. . . a great service."

Another low-pitched hum, wary and sad-sounding. Vader nodded.

"You know that you will be deactivated and destroyed?"

The astromech confirmed. Vader turned and pointed to the terminal, and the droid rolled forward slowly, extending its scomp link access port.

"Thank you, droid. You will be posthumously commended for your service."

Ten minutes later, the black droid retracted its onboard slicing equipment and rolled back toward Vader. It popped its maintenance panel, which gave the acolyte access to a deactivation port, restraining bolt attachment, and other essential functionalities. First, Vader popped the bolt and hid it away in a compartment in his utility belt. Then, his surprisingly deft fingers worked expertly through the heavy snytheleather of his gloves to deactivate and wipe the astromech's memory. The whole thing took about ten minutes. When he was finished, Vader stepped back to regard the hunk of metal in front of him. He had covered his tracks -- aside from the fate of that engineering chief, who would also have to be silenced -- but there were protocols for depositing unwanted former Imperial droids. One couldn't just dispose of an entire droid --

Another _whoosh_ of painkiller and toxic sedative rushed through his mask. He left the droid where it was, lifeless and still, and stalked toward the engineering deck. Once there, he summoned the chief engineer -- a stocky, smug looking Corellian -- and obstructed his airway until he fell to the floor, his neck breaking with a grotesque snap. Again he pushed his mind through the cloud of drugs to devise a solution. His fist met the durasteel table when the most obvious and ludicrous answer revealed itself.

Only a bounty hunter could clean up this mess. There was one man in the known galaxy, Vader knew, with whom he could partner at this point. The Emperor would not give it a second thought, being completely immersed in whatever this mysterious project entailed. Someone from Obi Wan's past, someone who was owed a favor. . . a debt. They had something in common, now -- Vader could use that fact as leverage. There was also the vast wealth of the Empire, and a vendetta against the Jedi. Yes.

When Vader returned to his personal quarters, he began his search. By the end of the night, he had utilized the services of and subsequently destroyed three more astromech droids -- but that didn't matter. He had found what he was looking for.

"Boba. The last time I saw you, you held your father's head in your hands."

Vader programmed the necessary information into an encryption cylinder. He accessed the holotable in his quarters, knowing the great risk he ran by contacting the Emperor unbidden.

"What is the meaning of this inappropriate _intrusion_?"

"My Lord, I have been informed that there may be Jedi in hiding on Tatooine."

"I have not seen any intelligence to that effect. Why do you believe that this is so?"

"The Force is strong there. They would go where they could draw upon its power and regroup."

Palpatine recoiled, genuinely surprised with Vader's answer. "Very well, though I strongly doubt your perception of Force strength is adequate. Report your findings to Moff Tarkin; do not interrupt me again."

The transmission was abruptly ended, and Vader rose to his feet. All of the preparations had been handled, including sealing the areas in which the first astromech droid and chief engineer lay. Now all he had to do was get to Tatooine and contract the young bounty hunter - and perhaps discover the purpose of this secret mission Palpatine refused to tell him about.

Vader walked down the long corridors toward the hanger bay, lost in thought. He knew that Luke was somehow significant, though the reason was unclear. Even when he called upon the Force to help him discern the boy's purpose, he came away with nothing. Perhaps Fett could help him discover the reason behind that as well.

A young ensign pilot, holding a black flight helmet in one hand, could only stammer and stare at Vader when he was informed that the black warrior would be traveling alone.

"With respect, m'Lord, it is protocol for a pilot to escort you --"

"I am aware of protocol, Ensign Melik. You are relieved."

The young officer wisely cleared out, quickly walking away with a gentle nudge of the Force. Vader smiled beneath his helmet and boarded a lambda-class cruiser, setting a hyperspace route for Tatooine.

En route, Vader contacted Jabba the Hutt.

"You have something I need, Hutt. Name your price."

"Two-hundred thousand."

"One-twenty five and no more. Even the Empire has its limits."

"One-fifty." The corpulent hutt's breath was labored and his mind inscrutable - the Force never worked on his race. They were shrewd businessmen with strong constitutions. Vader balled his fist.

"It is a deal. I will meet with you at the palace in one standard day."

"Always a pleasure doing business with the Empire. I look forward to your visit and our continued _relationship_."

Ending the transmission, Vader cleared his mind and eased into a comfortable but cautious state of meditation. The remainder of the journey was uneventful and Vader felt as though he were truly a step ahead of the Emperor and whatever Darth Revilus was hiding, but as Vader's cruiser closed the gap to Tatooine, Luke met Emperor Palpatine for the first time -- and Vader's race against the clock had begun.

_ _ _

"He is hiding something, my Master. I can feel it."

Palpatine nodded soberly. "Indeed. However, we have more pressing matters to attend. Bring Luke before me."

Darth Revilus exited the throne room and re-entered a moment later, the messy-haired Luke trailing in behind him like a pint-sized shadow. They pair of them looked ridiculous, Revilus a hulking mountain of a man and Luke barely reaching midway up Revilus' thigh. Palpatine chuckled, the ancient voice echoing throughout the vast throne room.

"And so Darth Revilus brings you before me, young Luke. Tell me; how old are you?"

There was a beat of hesitation, but Revilus glared at the boy and he spoke up. "I am ten years old, your majesty."

"Do you know who I am?"

"You are Emperor Palpatine, ruler of the Galactic Empire."

Palpatine nodded. "Very good, Luke. You are intelligent; that will carry you far. Another question: do you know what it means to be the Emperor's Hand?"

"No, sir."

"I thought not. Since I cannot be omnipresent, even with the power of the Force, I require loyal servants of the Empire to help me maintain peace and order. Do you understand?"

Luke nodded slowly. "I think so."

"Show confidence, boy. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"You want me to be your Hand, majesty?"

"Yes, Luke. Good. Darth Revilus tells me that you are Force sensitive, is that correct?"

"Yes. I've always been able to move things and change people's minds with my own."

Another cackle from Sidious. "Of course, but the ways of the dark side go far beyond those basic talents. If you become my Hand, you will know their power and harness abilities greater than your wildest imaginings. You will be a hero for the Empire because you will use those abilities to serve and protect myself and the galaxy at large."

Revilus tapped the boy's shoulder, and he sank to his knees. He was intelligent _and_ obedient. Excellent.

Darth Sidious rose from his throne, neglecting the use of his cane and reaching Luke with a speed that belied his appearance.

"Darth Revilus, please administer the oath."

Revilus nodded. "Luke, do you commend your life to the service of the Galactic Empire as long as you live and breathe?"

"I do."

"And do you swear fealty to Emperor Palpatine, pledging your life and livelihood to his will?"

"I do."

Palpatine stepped forward, looking down on the young child before him. He had a flashback of the Sith oath he gave to Revilus, the name he bestowed upon him. It almost made him giddy, knowing that he was performing a similar ritual with the offspring of _Obi Wan Kenobi_. Darth Revilus eyed his master expectantly; Sidious turned his mouth in disgust before smiling, almost appearing in that moment as he had during his Chancellorship.

"Luke Skywalker."

Revilus' eyebrows shot up. He dare not turn to look at Darth Sidious.

"Yes. You are the son of Skywalker. I have foreseen it."

Luke wisely remained silent, observing his Emperor with apparent confusion. Revilus tried not to look surprised.

"Master?"

"Patience, Lord Revilus. Take him before Vader when he returns from that silly errand he's on. Task him with training young Skywalker. You are both dismissed."

Before turning to walk away, Emperor Palpatine incanted blithely, "Welcome to the Empire, Luke Skywalker. Do not disappoint me."

Darth Revilus shuttled the young boy out of the throne room, leaving the confusion of that tableau behind. When Luke's blue eyes met his, he knew: Vader would train his own son and never know. He could never, ever know.

What had this sick game become?

_ _ _

Landing hadn't been easy. Even Vader's piloting made for a difficult descent, but the vessel sustained no damage even out in Tatooine's dunes where Jabba's palace was located. After making his way through corridors full of Gamorrean guards and other sundry characters, he found himself in the throne room standing before Jabba's court and the Hutt himself. Vader offered a customary bow, at the waist and not too low. The crime lord seemed pleased.

"You came all the way here for a bounty hunter?"

"Yes, and your credits await deposit in the account numbers you have provided once he is delivered to me." Vader held up a banking transmission flimsiplast, his thumb hovering over the execute button. All he had to do was hand over Fett, and this would be over. It was almost too easy.

"Of course, I get a cut of whatever this young Mandalorian is paid. Consider it a finder's fee."

"Naturally the Empire will compensate you accordingly."

"Good, good! We have an accord, then."

Jabba motioned with one slimy green arm, and a well-built figure clad in traditional Mandalorian armor - green and gray, a variation of his late father's blue and gray - stepped forward from the shadows. A jetpack was secured to his back, and a green replica of Jango Fett's helmet obscured his face. He held a blaster rifle, standard issue, but Vader could tell even from a distance that the safety was on. A gesture of goodwill; smart.

Vader held up the bank transmission pad and activated it, sending the considerable sum of credits into Jabba's many accounts. "It is finished."

"Just don't get him killed. He's one of a kind."

"He will be returned to you in one piece. Rest assured."

The Hutt only nodded, massive rolls of flab quaking as he did. "I may require his services when you aren't using him."

"Of course. We will remain in contact." After another curt bow, Vader left with Fett falling into step on his right.

"Do you have a ship of your own?"

"Yes", came the gravelly voice beyond the helmet. "She's in top shape. Where do I meet you?"

"The Imperial ship _Executor_ , 2200 standard hours. Can you make it? The first portion of this job is time sensitive."

"That won't be a problem."

"Meet me in the hanger bay. You will receive further instructions there."

The men parted ways, Boba Fett climbing into Slave One and taking off as Vader watched from the landing pad where his cruiser waited. He hoped that the Emperor wouldn't suspect anything, but after his abrupt departure, it was a possibility he could not discount.

Returning to the Executor, he ensured that only essential personnel were on hand. No one was around to see the bounty hunter exit his ship and approach the dark lord in a corner of the bay.

"There is an astromech droid and a dead engineering officer on decks 4 and 19, respectively. Please dispose of both of them in a timely and efficient manner. Report back to my personal quarters on deck 4 when you have done this."

"Will I run into any trouble?"

"No. I have informed all essential personnel that you are onboard. I will deal with any problems personally."

It took less than an hour before the Mandalorian mercenary was standing in the stark, minimalist quarters of Lord Vader. He shifted his weight nervously; Vader pretended not to be stricken with momentary sympathy for the young man. A sudden pang of guilt shot up his throat, but he ignored it. He would never know who Vader actually was; there was no reason to feel guilt.

"Well done."

"You shelled out one-fifty for me to throw an astromech and a dead engineer in my ship? If you're wondering, they'll both be incinerated on Raxus Prime. I take. . . disposables. . . there all the time."

"No, and you will take care not to use that tone from this point forward. I require your services for -- finding -- someone. I also need you to clean up more identical messes should they arise as a result of this most _secret_ mission."

"That's my specialty. Who am I finding?"

"Your mission is two pronged. First, you will need to gather information on a boy who was sent to live on a moisture farm on Tatooine. His name is Luke. That is all the information to which I am privy, but I assume that you are well-connected."

Fett nodded slowly. "That won't be a problem. I've done more with less."

"I hope for your sake that is true, bounty hunter. The second part of this plan is much more. . . _intricate_. Luke must be watched; observed. You will keep detailed and encrypted logs of your findings, and you will hand-deliver them to me at secret locations of my choosing. Can you do this?"

The Mandalorian gave a single, silent tilt of his head in reply. Vader couldn't get a solid read on what was going through Fett's mind in that moment, but he caught whisps of understanding and perhaps a bit of intimidation. Vader was satisfied at least that this bounty hunter wasn't like the rest -- he knew his place, his purpose, and would be exacting in executing both. Perhaps this business partnership hadn't been such a bad idea.

"Of course, this mission must endure for an indefinite period of time. As long as the Emperor is unaware of its existence, you will be under my employ for this specific task until I terminate our partnership. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Lord Vader. As long as the credits keep flowing, I am amenable to your terms and the details of the mission."

"Excellent. The Empire has never utilized the services of a bounty hunter before you. This is an historic day; I hope that you are also _amenable_ to the fact that it will not be a matter of record."

"With respect my Lord, I don't do this for fame."

Vader hooked his thumbs into either side of his utility belt. "Impressive. Do not all bounty hunters and mercenaries operate with money and fame -- only for themselves -- in mind?"

"For the most part, yes. None of my associates seem to care much for the Empire, but they wouldn't sneeze at an Imperial contract if it came their way."

Vader decided to up the ante. "What is your opinion of the Empire?"

There was a second of silence before he did so, and Vader could suddenly feel a wave of uncertainty emanating from Fett. Slowly, the young Mandalorian removed his helmet. If Vader had been able to gasp, he would have. Not because he didn't know what was underneath the helm, but he was essentially looking at a ghost made flesh.

The young man staring back at him, he knew, was Boba Fett. Taken as partial payment for Jango's genetic template, Boba was an unsullied Kaminoan clone -- the only one of his kind, who had not been programmed to age at an accelerated rate and who, curiously, remained highly skilled even though he had not been programmed to excel in combat. He possessed all of the traits Jango did, including his darker skin and piercing, calculating eyes. Even as a young man, he was the spitting image of Jango. It was like a piece of the past, an uncomfortable reminder, was standing before Vader. Their business agreement would go beyond a simple matter of doing a job and doling out credits; it was an act of truce between a man who lost his father and the Jedi. Perhaps someday, when this was all over, Vader would tell him who he was. Until that day, he would be content to know that this arrangement was his only way to offer a silent and thickly shrouded apology to Boba Fett for all that he had lost. Considering his parentage and what Jango represented, Vader shouldn't have felt apologetic at all -- but even after everything that had happened, Vader had considered in his darkest moments that perhaps Anakin had been right. Perhaps the Jedi _were_ evil. Were that the case, using that point of view, Jango's death had been nothing less than murder. Vader hoped that Fett hadn't seen the shudder rock his body.

"I am one of the original Kamino clones, but I was never a trooper. My father, Jango Fett, was the progenitor of the clones. They used his genetic template to create them. I -- I lost him when I was young, at the height of the Clone Wars. My anger isn't aimed at the Empire, but at the Jedi. They were responsible for his death."

"I see. So your reasons for partnering with the Empire are also personal?"

"Correct. To be honest, I --" He paused. Vader waited patiently while Fett found the words.

"I think that the Empire is doing the best it can. The Republic was grossly ineffectual and the Senate was politically impotent. I'm not much for politics myself, but Palpatine knows what he's doing. I can get behind a man who knows what he wants and isn't afraid of what it'll take to get it."

Vader's left eye twitched in an uncomfortable muscle spasm. "Indeed."

Fett held his helmet under his forearm against his hip, looking around Vader's sparse quarters. The two men shared a certain comfort already; perhaps opening up to him had shaken the young Mandalorian of his characteristic stoicism. That could only improve their working relationship - Boba also wasn't intimidated by Vader's size, booming basso voice, and infamous temperment. They would work well together.

"After you dispose of the droids and the engineer, return to Tatooine is quickly as possible."

"I will send a transmission to my contacts and get some preliminary intel on the boy. Shouldn't take long. Mos Eisley would be a good place to start; the cantina is a hotbed of information. Nothing happens on Tatooine that doesn't end up as gossip fodder there."

"Good. Do not tell anyone that you are working for the Empire."

"You have my word."

"Go. You have a lot to accomplish, bounty hunter. Do not fail me."

Only a single nod - Boba's trademark, as Vader found out later - and he was gone. Vader, suddenly exhausted and seeing no reason to remain in his quarters, stalked down the jet black hallways until he was safely disrobed in his meditation chamber. If his plan was going to work, he would need to plant the seeds immediately.

"The Force shall set me free" he mumbled, closing his eyes and setting his thoughts upon Darth Revilus.

_ _ _

Revilus had deposited the wide-eyed boy in his temporary quarters, showing him where the fresher was, ensuring that he possessed clean clothes (until his uniforms could be created), and showing him how to obtain food from the ration unit. Thus far, Luke had taken to his new environment with the calm demeanor of a person much older. Darth Revilus found himself curious at the youth's lack of, well, _youthful_ reactions to an emotionally traumatic departure from his homeworld and learning that he was now the property of the Galactic Empire. He didn't even have to use the Force to know that there was something amiss about the whole situation.

"A protocol droid will be assigned to you shortly to attend to whatever needs you may have. Do not leave your quarters unless you are summoned by myself or Moff Tarkin. Is that understood?"

"What if the Emperor sends for me?"

"He will not. That is likely the only encounter you will have with the Emperor for quite some time."

Revilus tried not to show his shock when Luke frowned, crestfallen. Did this child possess no fear, no understanding of the powerful and deadly company in which he now found himself? Was this simply a display of his inherited foppishness from Kenobi?

"Remain here until called for. The protocol droid will be along shortly."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"What does the name 'Skywalker' mean? Is it code?"

The monstrous Sith Lord's blood ran cold. "It is meaningless. It would behoove you not to question the motives of the Emperor."

Revilus turned on his heel and felt immediately better as soon as he was briskly walking down the hallway and away from Luke's quarters. Something about the Emperor's newest Hand was greatly disturbing, though what he could not say. It was a feeling of dejavu, that he had looked into Luke's eyes before; that he was familiar. Of course the sensation went beyond the knowledge that the boy did resemble both Padme and Obi Wan, but there was something else. . .

"My Lord, the Emperor has requested that you report to him immediately. He awaits you in the throne room."

A mild annoyance hit him like a wave. He snapped at the gray-chested lieutenant, "Fine. Inform him that I am on my way."

Revilus had been so lost in thought that the small, inconsequential officer below him (everyone was 'small' to Revilus) quaked with his superior's sharp tone. "Don't just stand there, lieutenant. I am certain you have better things to do than darken this hallway."

"Yes, m'Lord." The lieutenant hurried away, leaving the behemoth Sith glaring after him. The only Imperial officer who wasn't afraid of the behemoth Sith was Tarkin, and that was due to his knowledge of who Revilus truly was. Suddenly, ruling by fear wasn't as appealing. Would they all act like Tarkin if they knew that he was Anakin Skywalker? Could it even be said anymore that he was the former Jedi Knight, the lauded Hero With No Fear? Tens of pounds of muscle and elongated appendages had made his appearance just enough of a mystery to keep that fact hidden, but with Luke's introduction to the Empire, the not-so-distant past was coming back to haunt him. He was beginning to question everything, and judging by that lieutenant's red-faced message, it was clear that Sidious had caught a whiff of his apprentice's trepidation. The dark side had an infuriating way of amplifying and making tangible angst, fear, and aggression.

Darth Revilus assumed the genuflected position he knew Emperor Palpatine loved, casting his eyes downward and enunciating each syllable as he said in accented Nubian, "What is thy bidding, my Master?"

Palpatine's eyes narrowed. He hadn't expected _Anakin_ to reply - lately Revilus had favored Basic. What was the meaning of this new resurrection of their old selves?

"Basic is sufficient, Lord Revilus."

"I thought you might enjoy hearing your native tongue, Master."

Palpatine leaned forward, one crooked finger pointing at Revilus' impossibly broad chest. "You are mistaken." The Sith sovereign was so surprised with the abruptness of the outburst that was all he could think to say, his mouth hanging open in preparation to say more. No words came.

"I am greatly disturbed by your behavior. Explain yourself."

"What behavior, Master?"

Palpatine slammed both of his gnarled fists on the armrests of his throne. "Do not presume that. . ." 

"'Our closeness gives me license to indulge in wanton petulance', yes I know. We have shared this speech much lately, Master. Forgive me, but at times I tire of the charade."

Sidious quickly shifted and attempted a different approach. "Let us dispense with this aggression; tell me what troubles you. I have felt your anger; it has always made you invincible, but lately it has adopted a furtive component. I merely wish to know why you are in _pain_ , Anakin."

It had been years since Darth Sidious had used Revilus' given name. It wasn't safe even now in the protected confines of the throne room, but it was a risk Palpatine was willing to take. Somehow, Luke's presence had caused Revilus to experience some sort of crisis. Its reason and depth were unclear, and typically the Emperor wouldn't inquire after something that caused Revilus to behave with such immaturity, but he believed that the core of the matter was directly related to his relationship with Sidious -- and that could not stand, even after the plan had been put into motion. Palpatine's first priority was to protect his greatest weapon - Vader - and to concurrently safeguard Anakin's identity. Balancing those two things had never been a simple task, but it was beginning to prove impossible now.

"I looked into the boy's eyes and saw -- something familiar."

"Of course. He is the offspring of Amidala and Kenobi; that must be torturous for you."

"Yes, but it is something else. I cannot place the sensation, Master."

"Do you feel as if Luke represents something which should have been yours?"

"In a way. I look at him and see. . ."

Palpatine's chest heaved. " _Yourself_?"

Revilus hung his head. "Yes. I do not understand. He is not the blood of my blood, how is this possible? I feel inexplicably connected to him."

Darth Sidious reclined, adopting a more thoughtful visage. He seemed to be channeling his former self so much lately - Revilus ventured a guess that having Luke onboard was causing the sovereign to also subconsciously revisit the past by acting in ways he used to.

"Draw upon the dark side to protect your thoughts, Lord Revilus. Focus on the objective, on our plan."

Revilus rose, walking to the throne and bending low, kissing Palpatine chastely on the cheek. "And is it still _our_ plan? Is there room for me in this vast galaxy, this mighty Empire you have created?"

Palpatine looked up, searching the face of the man he had loved - first as one he mentored, then as he would a grandson, then a mate - for a good portion of his life. It seem unconscionable that Anakin would question him now, after everything had happened. He would have been offended, _should_ have been angry, but found that he could only quietly behold the man who had enslaved him, body and soul. The man for whom he had built an Empire.

"All of this is for you, dearest child. I did not assign the task of training young Luke to Vader to slight you. I did so because Vader is _in the way_."

"I appreciate that you gave Luke my name."

"It is all I could offer to make things right."

There had never been a Sith who had come so close to understanding the workings of the light side of the Force in that moment. Looking at Revilus - no, _Anakin_ \- it was clear what he had to do. Painful and unfair, but it was clear all the same. The dark side's many paths had converged, for a brief moment, with the light. Anakin's destiny was realized in a secondary way, and balance between two destinies and two aspects of the Force had been recognized.

"Leave me, Anakin. Darth Revilus. I must meditate."

Wordlessly, Revilus nodded. His heart was cold cortosis in his chest, his lungs seemingly filled with gravel. Tears clouded his vision as he pulled himself away from his Emperor.

There were no sentiments shared as they parted, but they knew. Revilus would retreat into meditation as well, but its purpose would be to prepare him for the separation from the only thing he loved. Darth Sidious closed his eyes, the tears that had been building overflowing and spilling down his face. He found, for several minutes, that he could not concentrate. All that he could see was Darth Revilus.


	12. Disorderly Conduct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke's training is abysmal at best, and Revilus is beginning to notice where he ranks in Palpatine's cabinet. Tarkin cracks a bit after being Revilus' toy, and learns where the Sith Lord is heading; Vader finds refuge from the awkward relationships around him in the dark side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one. . .
> 
> I wanted to show how badly out of alignment things got after Palpatine left. Tarkin and Revilus are in the middle of, um, extracurricular activities, and Vader still has no idea who Luke is. Revilus provokes Vader, Tarkin is terrified of Revilus, and Revilus is using Tarkin to get back at Palpatine. Sith love at its finest.

"Again."

Luke attempted another execution of a Shin Do offensive, casting a furtive glance into the expressionless black holes of Vader's mask. The tall warrior batted away the boy's advance, throwing out his opposite arm and knocking the young Hand off of his feet.

"Your opponents will not always be sterile in the Force. You must remember to be vigilant at all times."

Luke nodded, rubbing a knotted and aching muscle in his thigh. Vader extinguished his light saber, seeming as though he were looking right through the boy. "If ever the Emperor's life is in danger, you must act without reservation. Let the dark side guide you."

"Yes, my Lord."

"You are dismissed."

Vader watched as Luke bowed stiffly at the waist, exiting the training ring and clipping his light saber to his belt. The Emperor's newest Hand was proving a late bloomer. Vader clasped his cape back around his neck; odd, how one simple gesture made him feel much more. . . himself. Whatever that meant, anymore.

"You are too soft on him."

Darth Revilus had been quietly observing, masking himself in the Force so that Luke hadn't noticed his presence. He stood out from the shadows of the training room, his newly-grown beard augmenting the icy severity of his features. Vader turned to appraise his counterpart, clipping his own light saber onto his belt and folding his arms around his chest.

"I do not require your assessment."

"Of course not, Lord Vader."

"Why are you here? Are you not embroiled in the final preparations for the Death Star's completion?"

Revilus chuckled. It was true; the day of reckoning was fast approaching, and the towering apprentice to the Emperor had been impossibly beleaguered with the last remaining details - mostly concerning the superweapon housed inside of the drab, gray sphere. Tarkin was searching for the perfect target - preferably a military target, preferably one known to house Jedi and the struggling upstart rebellion Imperial intelligence had recently discovered - and Revilus had been helping him. Palpatine was indisposed, both in meditation and making as many appearances as possible at the Imperial Center. Reinforcing the Empire's might and presence now was the most prudent thing the sovereign could be doing, though the part of Revilus which still reeked of Anakin silently resented him for it. Ah, well; Tarkin was proving to be an _acceptable_ , if unwilling, replacement.

"Indeed. Though I remain interested in the cultivation of Luke's _skills_. Tell me, do you notice anything different about the boy? Something. . . familiar?"

"I am certain I do not understand. Dispense with the enigmatic speech and say what you mean, Lord Revilus."

The hopelessly muscular Sith took a few steps forward. "Does he not bite his lip like she did when deep in thought?"

Vader's patience abruptly reached its end. He lunged forward, knocking Revilus onto the ground in the same way he had swept Luke's feet from underneath him. The Sith Lord only laughed, the rich baritone reverberating off of the glossy black panels of the octagonal room. The murderous expression in Revilus' golden eyes hardened even more as he drew his legs around Vader's waist, coming perilously close to the life support functionality panel affixed to his chest.

"If I so much as flex my thighs, you die."

The heavy breathing through the vocoder sounded as if Vader was out of breath, but in reality he was nervous. He drew the dark side around him, shielding himself from Revilus' scrutiny. The mechanical weezing was enough to encourage the apprentice Sith to increase his grip on Vader's waist; that pursuit didn't need the encouragement of Vader's fear.

"Enough. Release me."

Surprisingly, Revilus obliged after a couple of beats of hesitation. "Do not underestimate me again, you brutish machine. Remember your place."

Lord Revilus elegantly rose to his feet. "I will be watching that boy. It would benefit you both if you were to demonstrate adept dueling techniques." Then, he added softly, "Your strike has always been listless. Like fighting with a drunken womp rat."

Vader made no attempt to counter the verbal attack, preferring instead to excuse himself lest he launch himself at Revilus a second time. "You could never quell your arrogance to humble yourself enough to appreciate subtle attacks. Gentlemen and warriors are not mutually exclusive; I endeavor to inculcate Luke with both skill sets."

Revilus swiped a bit of blood from his lip. "He will be Sith. There is no room for _gentility_. Do not weaken him."

"What if I stand to be weakened?"

Another low, grinding chuckle. "I do not concern myself with what you stand for."

The durasteel doors parted, and Revilus did not slow down as he walked through them. Vader's eyes followed the polished black jackboots until the doors closed again and he was encapsulated in darkness. He stood in the training room for several more minutes, wondering after Revilus' violent admission. If he had not a shred of leftover allegiance within him, he would not have dwelt in the shadows. Anakin's motivations, Vader mused, had always been painfully transparent to everyone but himself.

_ _ _

Tarkin's collar had suddenly become a vice. His tugging was both noticeable and futile; Revilus studied him curiously over a flimsiplast he was barely reading, the Moff's voice an undulating and nervous roll of elongated consonants and stuttering Basic. He swore in Eriadan under his breath, tossing his own flimsiplast onto the desk with abandon. Revilus huffed reproachfully.

"Such language."

Revilus was in a _mood_. Tarkin could only imagine it could only be that Palpatine was back on Coruscant and the imposing Sith, like a pouting child, was stricken with boredom. Tarkin had been relieved of his more recent social obligations so that he could entertain Revilus - and so that they could plan the bacchanalia for when the Death Star was declared fully operational. Wilhuff's backside ached; Revilus had been _painfully_ bored indeed.

"My apologies, Lord Revilus."

"We have shared some demanding days of late, haven't we?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And do you regret our time together?"

"No. Of course not. I count myself lucky."

Revilus waved a few thick fingers. "Do not abide me. Your _company_ is sufficient. Your tactical and military brilliance is unmatched, but that is not why I have called you here this evening."

Tarkin offered a toothless, congenial smile. "Indeed. I endeavor to be of service to the Empire and to you."

"Your service has been. . . noteworthy." They both knew he spoke in riddles. They both knew the muffled gasps and groans of climax had been for maintenance and nothing else. Tarkin's chest tightened. "Thank you, Lord Revilus."

"Young Luke shows promise, though I wonder after Vader's methods."

Tarkin was pleased for the abrupt change of subject. "I find it difficult to believe that he could be anything other than exacting in his expectations."

"Quite the opposite. I observed their training sessions yesterday; Vader is getting soft."

The Governor's face paled. Relations between the Emperor's cabinet had become impossibly strained. With Luke's presence came a terrifying close call, one that would destroy Lord Vader completely if the boy's identity were somehow uncovered. Revilus had suspected for some time that Vader was attempting to do just that, which explained his recent interest in the budding Hand's training. The Emperor, he knew, had no patience for any of them at present. All of his faculties were being exhausted on Coruscant, though his clipped diction left nothing to the imagination whenever Tarkin even spoke Revilus' name during a communique.

"Any good Hand will eventually take his training into his own hands. He will simply omit any foolish indoctrinations. Let us hope that he inherits your virtuosic discernment in addition to your name."

Revilus' eyes twinkled. "Let us hope."

Tarkin's turn to change the subject arose, and he grasped at the open window with a bit more enthusiasm than he had planned. "The celebration of the Death Star's completion is quickly approaching. You must be looking forward to being at Sheev's right hand once again."

"It will be an historic moment for us all, Wilhuff. As for _us_. . ." his voice trailed off. "I do not know what to say."

Tarkin blanched. "My Lord?"

"Surely you know."

"I have heard rumors. Tatooine." Tarkin's voice dipped low, his eyes following the downward inflection.

"You have heard truth, then."

Tarkin's eyelids became heavy. He sat forward, straightening his spine and placing his hands on his knee, one on top of the other. Revilus looked up, seeming to plead with the Moff. Tarkin's eyes met his; neither man blinked.

"I am sure that this is a protective measure."

"He does not need to _protect_ me."

"Certainly not. He only needs to protect himself."

The entire Empire, for all of its loyalty to its creator and figurehead, could not be responsible for the sole task of keeping its sovereign hidden away. It had become clear, with his presence at the Imperial Center, his renewed interest in the Imperial Senate, and the lack of contact with Darth Revilus that something was amiss. Tarkin had ignored the feeling of impending change - nay, doom - for weeks. Not until now, when Revilus was bloated and red-eyed before him, had he understood _why_ Palpatine had thrown himself into unprecedented Imperial activity. The weight of it pushed the breath from his lungs.

Tarkin's voice was gravelly but controlled. "I know how much, Lord Revilus."

The Sith Lord quaked. "Sith are capable of more. . . if he would let me stay, he could experience that."

"It does not cheapen your ancient religion, my friend. Rather, if I may, it _strengthens_ its tenets. Passion. . ."

"Yes", Revilus drew out with a slow exhalation. "Passion. Devotion."

"His devotion is what keeps him alive. He is doing this so that you might live, Darth Revilus. It is not a punishment."

"It is. . . from my point of view, Moff Tarkin." He rose, offering Tarkin a curt bow before leaving the man alone in the conference room. Tarkin slumped in his seat, abandoning his ramrod posture and breathing for what felt like the first time in several minutes, his lungs ablaze. A Sith's passion is his best friend in battle, but his worst enemy in just about everything else.


	13. One to Embody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Palpatine unveils the truth behind his plan to a heartbroken Darth Revilus. Vader's alliance with Boba Fett becomes a complementary addition to the Emperor's scheme. A planet steeped in Force energy holds the secret to Vader's longing - on many levels.

Palpatine had spent a total of fifteen standard days at the Imperial Center. He was exhausted - both physically and in the Force - but the fatigue from that work had been worth it. The Imperial Senate had eroded beyond repair and was on the brink of complete destruction. He would, he had decided, allow the government body to die on its own rather than speeding it along. He had more pressing matters to attend, anyway; like the sordid business with Darth Revilus, for example.

When he returned to the Death Star, the week-long celebration of its completion was well underway. Moff Tarkin and Darth Revilus, clad in impossibly starched dress uniforms, met him in the hanger.

Tarkin looked a bit more drawn than usual, Palpatine noted. Revilus seemed pleased with himself - had something happened between them in his absence? He dismissed the thought, waving off their simultaneous bows as he stepped onto the deck of the hanger bay. "Welcome, my Master."

Palpatine appraised Revilus cooly. "I see you authorized the celebration to begin without me."

Tarkin and Revilus exchanged uneasy glances; Sidious remained stony faced. "Master, we wanted to surp --"

"'Surprise' me? Have you been without my guidance for so long that your ability to make decisions has atrophied?" The withered Emperor brushed passed his subordinates, groaning with annoyance as he did so. "And I find Vader's absence most _offensive_."

Tarkin's long strides matched the Emperor's as the black-robed sovereign moved with alarming quickness through the hanger bay. "Lord Vader is training young Skywalker, my Lord. We wanted to surprise you with a demonstration of your new Hand."

Well, now that was interesting. Palpatine chuckled in spite of himself.

"That would explain why Vader has neglected to update me on the boy's progress. Still, his inconspicuous truancy is unacceptable. Find him and send him to my chambers."

Tarkin's eyes swept the floor before he replied. "Yes, m'Lord." Palpatine did not speak again until the Moff's footfalls were no longer audible.

"I see you made _use_ of Governor Tarkin while I was gone."

Revilus offered no rebuttal. He had missed his master, but he still had _needs_.

"Ah. . . he told you, didn't he?" Still, Darth Revilus said nothing. Palpatine's impatience was growing exponentially, and his apprentice could sense it.

"He did."

The two men walked down the long corridors wordlessly until they reached the Emperor's throne room, entering with no sound beyond the rustling of their respective robes. Palpatine ascended the dais, sitting on his throne with none of the regal grace he usually assumed. Darth Revilus dutifully sank to one knee, awaiting the remainder of his reprimand. "Master."

"You used to ask me what I bade you, Lord Revilus. Do you remember?"

"I do, my Master."

There it was: _my_ Master. This is what Palpatine loved about Revilus; the possessiveness, the ownership. On the outside one could easily observe that Revilus was the apprentice, but the truth was that Darth Revilus _owned_ his Master.

Palpatine was content to belong to Anakin. It was what he had always wanted - and what he would have to give up.

"Rise, Darth Revilus."

"Master, Moff Tarkin was telling me about the rumors he had heard. . ."

Palpatine's voice was deceptively soft and quiet. "Rumors" he repeated, almost sing-song "are not things which you need concern yourself. Do not protect Moff Tarkin. He has unwittingly proven that I have made the correct choice."

The lines in Revilus' face broke - he tugged at his collar, suddenly uncomfortable and perspiring even in the cold dark of the throne room. "So it is true, then! You would send me away to Tatooine!"

"You are still such a _child_ , Anakin! I am not sending you away to protect Luke from Vader; I am sending you to Tatooine so that you can _prepare_ Luke to face Lord Vader when the time is right! He must be turned to the dark side, but I do not believe that can happen here."

"He's here, Master! I can protect him better surrounded by the Empire than I can on a planet full of criminals!"

The Emperor sighed heavily, his eyelids suddenly becoming unbearably heavy. The return trip to the Death Star had been arduous; Revilus' petulance was not helping.

"You will watch over him, train him, and then you will lead him to Vader."

Revilus' golden eyes were nearly homicidal. "Luke will replace me, then."

Palpatine leaned forward with great effort, enunciating each syllable with the crisp diction of a practiced diplomat so that his immature apprentice could hear every word. "I cannot keep you here because I would willingly and happily send Vader through an airlock into the void of this sea of stars we call a galaxy if I were forced to choose between the two of you. Is that clear?"

Darth Revilus' expression did not change. He simply stared, barely concealing his rage, as Sidious continued. "I would use this weapon to destroy that pit of a planet on which you were enslaved, I would crush Luke's windpipe without a second thought, I would jam my hands up Tarkin's pompous erudite ass and unleash peals of lightning through his mouth if it would please you. How else can I illustrate the need to separate myself from the only thing I have ever loved? I need you to understand, Anakin. I need you to understand that I am half a Sith, half an emperor, half a _master_ when I can't focus for wanting to be near you."

"Master, that is all I have ever wanted from you."

Palpatine's voice became a whisper. "That, my darling boy, is why you must go."

Something seemed to click then, because Revilus turned and stalked out of the throne room on his own initiative. Palpatine did not call after him, did not debase him for quitting his company as he had so many times before in their previous life. He found his parting words dying in his throat before he could even find the breath to say them.

_ _ _

Vader had neglected communication with Boba Fett for several standard weeks. On one hand, it would take quite some time for Fett to solicit his network of clandestine information gatherers, but on the other, he himself was prohibitively busy with Death Star preparations. Once the Emperor returned from Coruscant, he had called upon his mechanical commando with increased verve. Between training sessions with Luke and being available at all times to satisfy the Emperor's multitudinous requirements, he had little time to devote to discovering Luke's identity.

It didn't take long for Fett to grow impatient and contact Vader on his own initiative. For the sake of appearances, Vader pretended to be appropriately perturbed.

"I thought my instructions were clear regarding our communication."

"They were, but I've found something."

"What is it?"

"Luke, sir. He's being sent back to Tatooine to live on a moisture farm."

"Interesting. Do you have the exact location?"

"Yes sir. I don't trust the integrity of basic encryption, so I've taking the liberty of uploading all of the information into the mainframe of a reprogrammed HK-47 assassin droid. I shoved him into a pod bound for an uninhabited planet - Dromund Kaas. There are ruins of a Sith temple on the planet - HK is waiting for you there. Are you familiar with the world?"

Vader had only heard of Dromund Kaas, as it was at one time the seat of the Sith Empire. The planet was still shrouded in powerful dark side energies, a result of the thousand year emperor's machinations. There was nothing there now but native flora and fauna, the ruins of Kaas City, various temples, and perhaps some indigenous wildlife. It would be a treacherous journey, but if it meant getting closer to whatever Palpatine was planning, it was worth it.

"Yes. I will depart immediately. Your services will be remunerated using the typical channels. Do not contact me again unless I authorize you to do so."

"Yes, my Lord." The transmission ended as Vader began the initial keystrokes to locate the coordinates for Dromund Kaas. As he had suspected, there wasn't a mapped hyperspace route to the ancient world; he would have to use buoys and map the route manually. It would be difficult and take twice as long, but the reward was worth the risk.

He set off for the hanger bay in which his modified TIE was being prepped for departure. As he rounded the final corner to the hanger, his internal comm interface began to signal a transmission from the Emperor. He shrouded his anxiety in the Force, accepting the transmission and genuflecting before the blue likeness of Emperor Palpatine.

"I require your presence, Vader."

"My Lord, I regret --"

"Whatever trifle you are currently toying with can wait." Vader knew when he could push the sovereign, and now was not one of those times. "Yes, my Lord."

He amended his course, quickly clipping down the long corridors and hallways until he was before the withered ruler of the galaxy. Somehow, Palpatine looked more haggard than ever - his visit to the Imperial Center must have taken more out of him than he had previously let on.

"You summoned me, Master."

"I am relieving you of your duty to Luke Skywalker, the Hand. You are to end your training sessions with him at once."

He feigned shock, drawing the Force around him tighter still. "Has my mentorship of the young Hand displeased you, my Lord?"

"Quite to the contrary. I find that young Luke is not as Force adept as his station requires; his memory will be wiped and he will be returned to Tatooine. Darth Revilus will accompany him."

"It is as you say."

"It will be done because I have decreed it. Never forget my sovereignty, Vader. My benevolence can only be relaxed to a certain extent; you would do well to remember that."

Vader felt his blood run cold. Palpatine appraised him placidly, feeding off of the anxiety emanating from his black-clad nemesis.

"I do hope you will return in time for the weapons demonstration. _Obi Wan_."

If his vocoder had been able to aptly sound a skipped breath, it would have done so in that moment. Vader felt the organic parts of him tingle in a way vaguely reminiscent of goosebumps. For Palpatine to have called him by his given name, and in front of the Red Guard stationed in the throne room, was quite the risk. There was no doubt, now; Palpatine knew that there was treachery afoot. Vader masked his anxiety, buried it as deeply with the Force as he could.

Palpatine waved his hand, his face becoming a mask of boredom. "You are dismissed."

Vader rose, bowed, and left as quickly as he had come. As he boarded the TIE Fighter and manually programmed coordinates to the first of ten hyperspace buoys, he considered the Emperor's final words. Did he already know about Vader's secret meddling? Is that why he ended Luke's training? If that were the case, he would have done far worse to him than blithely spit out a platitude about benevolence - he could have, and probably would have, killed Vader on the spot if he actually knew about Vader's pet project.

It was all very interesting.

The task at hand, however, was far more consuming. He was lucky that Palpatine hadn't thrown a further wrench into his plans by tasking him with some benign chore and making him stay on the Death Star, and Vader found himself relaxing into the monotony of space travel with relish.

Whatever awaited him in this droid on Dromund Kaas had better be good. Boba Fett's life depended on it.


	14. Specters of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader is unprepared for the visions and revelations his visit to Dromund Kaas produces.

Dromund Kaas was just as desolate as Fett hinted. The sensory readings from his suit reported exponentially increased levels of electromagnetic energy; no doubt leftovers from the long-dead Sith Empire of Lord Vitiate. As Vader looked up, he spied the spidery arms of lightning jet across the dark clouds which confirmed the data. The sight of it jarred him momentarily; he had learned in his padawan classes (it seemed so long ago, now) that the Emperor had sought to achieve immortality. In some ways, if the lightning was any indication, perhaps he had actually succeeded. Vader considered how Yoda would react to his saying so, then chastised himself for waxing sentimental. That part of his life was over.

Even without a speeder, he was making decent time en route to the Dark Temple. The HK unit was in the main chamber, cordoned off by timer mines. In order to access the droid, Vader would need to disarm each mine in the proper order.

A kriffing pain, really. Vader appreciated the bounty hunter's caution, but to go to such an extent for an uninhabited planet was a bit redundant. There wasn't anyone else in the galaxy who knew the importance of the droid, what it contained, and why any of it mattered.

As Vader pushed his way through a grove of overgrown ferns, he was hit by a staggering thought: what if Revilus knew? What if he was awaiting his former master in the Dark Temple, effectively cutting him off from the only chance he had at confirming his suspicions about Luke?

Such thoughts were fruitless.

A few meters to his left, some vegetation began to rustle. The throaty, unmistakably glottal voice of Yoda emitted from the greenery. Vader shook his head, willing the hallucination to dissipate.

"Master Obi Wan."

"You aren't real."

"Machination of the planet, I am. Force construct, perhaps, but still wise as the real Yoda. Listen to me, I beg you."

The former Jedi Master attempted to meditate, but could not. The spectral vision before him, a perfect likeness of his former master, leaned on a cane expectantly. "Much have you to learn about the Force. Wrong we were all about young Skywalker."

"Who is Luke?"

But the vision of Yoda was gone. Vader whirled back to his former position, increasing his speed and cloaking himself in the Force to dissuade additional visions.

To see Yoda, even though he knew that it wasn't actually the Jedi himself, meant that the light still lived within him. Force visions, he knew, are manifestations of the beholder's desire.

Vader was manifesting his desire to embrace the light side once more. That thought propelled him further and further until the edifice of the Dark Temple was before him. On impulse, he looked around for a ship; the fear of Revilus meeting him there erasing any hope he had gleaned from his vision while hiking through the jungle.

As promised, the deactivated HK-47 unit sat in the middle of a circle of timer mines. Their plasteel cases glowed red, an indication that they were armed and lethal. Their combined explosions would surely disable his suit and kill him if he made a miscalculation in the pattern, but Vader had no intention of dying. Fett left no instructions, wisely leaving Vader to commune with the Force to discern the correct order. Vader unclasped his cape and sat, cross legged in front of the circle of mines, clearing his thoughts and focusing on the droid.

_Sixth from left, fourth from right. Second from right, fourth from left. First from right, third from left. . ._

The order was simple, the Force flowing easily through him. He hadn't felt as connected to the Great Mystery in his meditations on the Death Star; then again, the Death Star was not a Force-soaked planet. Vader could feel the movement of every blade of grass outside the temple, could hear the lightning above in that murky sky reach out to touch the very tips of the trees; and he could hear the impact of each drop of rain on the fecund jungle floor, their dull thuds making his heart race. He had never been in full concert with the Force, and its effect on his meditation was astounding. He felt alive, for the first time since making love to Padme, and when he opened his eyes he diligently set to the task of disarming the mines with renewed vigor.

He heard footfalls behind him. The sequence was almost complete; against his better judgment, he turned around. A spectral vision much like Yoda's emerged from the shadows of the temple.

It was Anakin. He looked resplendent in his old Jedi robes, somehow more youthful; without the pain in his eyes, the pressure of winning a war wasn't evident anywhere in his posture. He stood tall and proud - the very image of the light side. The image of what he should have been all along.

"Master, go back."

"Why, when I have come so far? Can you not see what I'm doing?"

"I am sorry, Master. I'm sorry for not listening to you."

Vader turned his back and continued to work, the mines blinking out as they were disarmed. "You were young. I was wrong to take advantage of your trust."

"I love you, Obi Wan. I still do. Come back; redeem me from the prison in which I am held captive. I need you."

He turned to address his padawan, but the vision had evaporated just as Yoda's had. He didn't realize his shoulders were tensing until he turned around yet again to disarm the last few mines; the planet certainly possessed a kind of power he had underestimated.

With the mines disarmed and discarded, Vader reactivated the HK droid and waited for his servomotors to boot.

"Are you Lord Vader?" The droid stood, his voice a mechanized baritone. It was not unpleasant; Vader nodded. "I am he."

"I require a passcode before I can allow you to access my holomemory, Master Vader."

"Of course. The passcode is 'Skywalker Redeemed'."

"Correct, Master. Accessing holomemory now."

In front of him, a small-scale visual recording of a conversation between Bail Organa and Yoda began to play. If Vader could have held his breath, he would have.

_"Master Yoda, I will take the girl to Alderaan with me. My wife's always wanted a girl."_

"Take the boy to Tatooine will I. Hide him away from the growing Empire, we must. Separate them, keep them away from Revilus. Use them as pawns to destroy Obi Wan, he would."

"Very well, Master Jedi. May the Force be with you."

The recording ended. HK looked at Vader, but the former Jedi didn't move.

"Master?"

Vader snapped back to the present from his reverie. "I have a son."

"I do not wish to be insubordinate, Master, but did that recording just reveal that you sired twins?"

"What do I call you?"

"Master?"

"Your _name_ , droid."

"My previous owner referred to me as Sevens, Master."

"Due to your 47 suffix?"

"I assume so. My previous owner was a perpetually intoxicated Corellian."

"Very well. Sevens, you have performed admirably and are obviously trustworthy. I assume, then, that you won't object to wiping your drives of the holorecording we just watched."

"It has been done, Master. I no longer recall the events of the last three standard hours."

"Good. That is a prudent measure. You will remain with me in my service until I indicate otherwise. Are you capable of piloting a ship?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"I have sent the coordinates of my ship's location to you. I will meet you there in one standard day; I shall remain here to meditate until we rendezvous at the landing pad."

"Very good, my Lord. Until we meet again."

The droid exited the temple, leaving Vader to his ruminations. Vader launched into another phase of meditation, this time focusing his energy on Luke.

His eyes looked exactly like Padme's. That plaintive longing behind them reminded him so much of their final meeting before the events on Mustafar. How she had begged him to stay, held his hand to her swollen abdomen - he had felt the heartbeat of his children then, and that had nearly convinced him to let Anakin go. Perhaps that is what he should have done, rather than tearing across the galaxy on a mission to kill the most promising young Jedi in the history of the Order. In the Dark Temple, the Force beckoned to him; it showed him that the right path had been to tend to his lover and their children. He had failed Padme, the Republic, and himself.

Above all, he had failed Anakin. And now he was to pay the ultimate price: Luke was going to be raised as a weapon to be used against his own father, unbeknownst to him, while Palpatine fed off of Vader's hopelessness. Palpatine would literally feed on Vader's hatred, thereby making himself stronger. Eventually, he wouldn't need Vader at all - and he could rule the galaxy with Luke as his Hand and Darth Revilus as his devoted apprentice.

Vader gave in to the jealousy that jumped into his meditations, causing him to open his eyes with a start. In his anger, in the divinity of his hatred, he stood in the middle of the circle in which he had found Sevens. Raising his arms high above his head, he brought down the old Dark Temple foyer in ruins around him. His anger echoed off of the ancient masonry until it reached the bruised sky above, and the lightning answered his furtive cries of pain.

Obi Wan Kenobi died not on Mustafar, but on Dromund Kaas. It was there in the Dark Temple that he embraced the dark side as the fullness of Palpatine's plan and Luke's identity were revealed to him.

He had lost everything: Padme, Anakin, and his children. There was nothing left.

Vader emerged from the decimated Dark Temple the next day and met Sevens at the landing pad. Vader insisted on piloting; rather than hysperspace buoys, he let his hatred light the way.


	15. One to Crave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader returns after his trek to Dromund Kaas, and Sevens gets a makeover. Darth Revilus is perilously close to learning the true nature of his destiny, but Palpatine sends him on a fact finding mission in an attempt to catch Vader in his treachery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything gets twisted, even Threepio's origins. I do so love royally f*cking with canon!

Darth Revilus knew two things:

First, and arguably most important: Vader was hiding something.

Secondly, and nearly just as important: Jedi attire was actually quite restricting. The voluminous belled sleeves of the outer robe made it impossible to look at all regal or imposing. Frowning, Revilus turned to the side while observing himself in the fresher mirror; he looked like a doddering old man, not a sagely Jedi Knight!

"This isn't going to work, Master. I'll be recognized straightaway."

Sidious' mouth crumpled into a pursed frown. "You will not be seen often enough for anyone to recognize you." And then, with a twinge of something close to sadness, "I had forgotten what a striking figure you cut in the mantle of the Jedi."

Revilus pretended he hadn't heard the wanton longing in the Emperor's voice. "I looked ridiculous then, and I look ridiculous now."

Where such a crude and contrarian observation would have been scolded at the least, Palpatine offered nothing but a wan smile. The same smile he used to offer delegates and senators; the same smile he offered Anakin the first time they shared something more intimate than mildly suggestive eye contact. Revilus drowned in the memory of simpler times; Palpatine's forlorn smile did not fade.

"No, my darling boy. You were magnificent." Palpatine, Revilus realized, was not offering an empty compliment; the way he said the word 'magnificent' was proof alone that the Emperor was experiencing something other than the sure and steady tyranny with which he ruled. This moment did not demand it, and so for the first and only time, he chose a contemplative manner of discourse. It succeeded in completely throwing off Revilus, who was hopelessly immersed in the fall of his robes and the weight of Obi Wan's light saber.

"It isn't balanced correctly" he droned, testing the weapon on the tips of his fingers. "I don't know how he ever managed to best anyone in a duel with this." Palpatine nodded. "You vastly outrank him when it comes to mechanical aptitude." Then, thoughtfully, "The beard suits you. Your resemblance to him is uncanny enough."

In order for the ruse to work, Revilus only needed to bear a passing resemblance to Obi Wan. Since he was to be sequestered in a stronghold in the dunes, he needed enough people to see him with trademark features in order to stir up rumors. Beyond that, most of his waking hours would be devoted to ensuring the safety of the asset - in this case, Luke. There would be no telling how long the mission would be; however long it took in order to draw Luke close enough to Vader.

Sensing the anxiety of his apprentice, Palpatine steered their conversation toward the reason for their current meeting. "Vader has just returned from Dromund Kaas." Revilus didn't bother trying to hide his surprise.

"Unless he went to pay homage at the Dark Temple, I can't imagine why he would have any business there. Has he communicated with you since his return?"

"Of course not. He has been conspicuously secretive of late. I sense confusion in him; and more recently, the seeds of hatred have been planted in him at long last. The timing could not be more fortuitous."

Revilus was changing back into a hopelessly starched black uniform, the jack boots polished so that Palpatine could make out nearly every wrinkle on his cheek. He snapped his eyes back up to Revilus', his face a mask of stern reproach to prove his point. "You will search his private access terminal. Should you find anything, report directly to me. I will make certain that he is - _indisposed_ \- so that you are able to perform a thorough search without the risk of interruptions."

Darth Revilus secured the final clasp of his tunic, running his hands down his front and tugging the bottom hem. Palpatine swallowed, licking his lips. "It will be done, my Master." Then, as if an afterthought, he bent low and slid the Emperor's cowl back an inch, kissing the pale skin of his forehead. It felt clammy under Revilus' lips -- no longer was his master the pallid, unblemished Nubian doll he had idolized and worked so hard to impress as a padawan. He certainly lived to serve and ardently loved Palpatine, but something had changed between them.

It was Luke. It was Tatooine; his impending departure. He could feel the Emperor beginning to loose the bonds between master and apprentice and Revilus was resisting. Soon, when Vader's treachery was successfully assuaged, he would go to Tatooine with Luke and live out the remainder of his life as Obi Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master. When the time was right, he would present Luke to the Emperor as bait for Vader, and his destiny would finally be realized.

He was the Chosen One, but Luke would bring balance to the Force.

He was Palpatine's most dangerous weapon, but Vader would soon take his place.

Thus attired and deeply entrenched in his own thoughts, Revilus offered a bow. Palpatine's soft smile did not waiver. Darth Revilus suddenly had the feeling that his Master could read his thoughts, but dismissed the hunch as pure paranoia.

"Master. I will deliver my report as soon as I learn any new information."

"Good, Lord Revilus. Now go; there is much to be done."

Revilus turned right down the deserted corridor, and Palpatine turned left.

_ _ _

Vader cursed himself for killing the engineer, realizing that in his anger-fueled haste he had neglected to account for an antiquated droid. This would be one of the few times he wished he could utilize his former padawan's skill set; the gold plating he had scrounged together from sanitation only covered half of Sevens' torso, leaving a bevy of wires and components exposed. He was at least able to install a new voice modulator and recalibrate his programming. No one would suspect a protocol droid of harboring any classified or privileged information.

"This will have to be good enough, Master."

Vader felt himself begin to panic. "Remember that you are now a protocol droid. As such, the name 'Sevens' is no longer appropriate."

The golden droid wasn't particularly paying attention, instead fussing over the cross bars attaching his upper arms to his wrists. The sheen of the durasteel needed to be polished, and he looked a bit worse for wear; but it would have to be enough.

"What do you suggest, Master?"

"I believe there is a C2-3O aboard serving as a translator. You could be --"

The droid hesitantly interrupted. "C3-PO, human cyborg relations and fluent in over six million forms of communication. Would that not be the next appropriate model number in the series?"

Vader inclined his helmet. "Indeed. Welcome to the service of the Empire, C3-PO."


	16. Alea iacta est

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dark side's seeds have been planted, watered, and have grown to verdant heights. 
> 
> On the eve of Darth Revilus' exile to Tatooine, Vader learns the extent of Palpatine's cruelty.
> 
> The Emperor chooses his sovereignty over Revilus, and the fate's wheel turns once again on the Chosen One.

Darth Revilus' bleary, glowing eyes combed over the data in front of him, growing increasingly impatient as his search yielded nothing. 

Vader's personal files were sparse: old mission logs, endless maintenance reports for his life support system, and several reams of past orders concerning the construction of the Death Star. Revilus skimmed it all just to be sure nothing was encoded within the mundane files, but he couldn't find any patterns to indicate encryption. 

Perhaps this chore would have been more tolerable had he not been called into that ridiculous ruse disguised as a fitting. The reminder that he would soon be on Tatooine, away from the modern comforts of his rank within the Empire, was often more than he could bear.

That he would be away from his Master - that was another story entirely.

To add insult to injury, Sidious had probably done all of that on purpose.

_It isn't fair._

Another smattering of completely impertinent data assaulted his vision. Maybe he'd be less _surly_ if Palpatine would acquiesce to a coupling reminiscent of what they shared before the galaxy fell apart. It would help with the transition, perhaps help both of them - but the sovereign wouldn't hear of it. In many ways, Sidious had been wounded far beyond the vain aesthetic of his physical appearance - his deeply wrinkled, sunken face mirrored his bitter regret.

And here he sat, pining for a touch he hated himself for needing.

_So that's why I have to go to Tatooine._

He felt the Force push him. Looked harder at the scrolling data in front of him. Squinting, Revilus accessed a file with no name. Its contents weren't anything spectacular, just some flight logs from Vader's trip to Dromund Kaas - but a name stuck out.  
Fett.

As in Jengo? Revilus crunched his jaw, narrowing his eyes as he continued to search for more information, but that was all he could find. Just the one line of text:

**Rendezvous with Fett - Tatooine.**

That was it. Palpatine was not going to be happy. He toggled the holocommunicator, and a pale blue image of the Emperor greeted him almost immediately.  
"My Master, I've found something."

"Yes?"

"Vader has been on Tatooine."

Silence. For what seemed like a long time, Palpatine said nothing.

"Come to me, Lord Revilus."

The apprentice obeyed.

_ _ _

"I take it you found the droid."

Vader nodded. "Yes, and the information that was promised. Thank you for your service."

"Not a problem, m'Lord. I received the credits you transferred, and I've made contact with some of my trusted informants in Mos Espa and Mos Eisley. That boy will be well observed."

"You have done well, bounty hunter. Continue this trend and you will be handsomely rewarded."

Vader cut the transmission, immediately purging the information port of its signature. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Emperor or, more likely, Darth Revilus put the pieces together. 

Exiting the holotheater, Vader felt a sudden pang of something foul. As soon as he rounded the first corner toward his quarters, he was stopped in his tracks by the source of his angst: Emperor Palpatine, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane of Kashyyyk oak and _smiling_. The long black corridor was completely empty.

"My Lord" Vader offered simply. Palpatine offered nothing in reply.

"Vader, do you know why I created you?"

He let too much silence pass before he answered the query. Palpatine rapped his cane against the durasteel deck three times, his smile only slightly faltering.

"Answer me, you towering behemoth."

"I do not know, my Leige."

"Walk with me."

Vader fell in step with Sidious. They shared no words and saw no other Imperial personnel as they walked. When they passed the throne room, Vader couldn't help himself.

"Where are we going, my Lord?"

Sidious didn't reply. He just continued to grin like a rabid Taagcat as they made their way down the vast hallways of the Death Star. There was nothing like it in the galaxy; no technological triumph of the past could equal its brilliant design, its flawless architecture, and its weapons systems - Vader grudgingly acknowledged that the superlaser was far ahead of its time, a cruel weapon capable of destroying an entire planet. 

If the onyx-emprisoned Kenobi didn't know better, he would think that the Emperor was illustrating a point in his infuriatingly passive aggressive, irritatingly diplomatic and downright demented manner.

Before he realized it, the two were standing on the bridge of the largest battle station in the galaxy. Not even Vader had been on the bridge before now - a detail he realized too late, it seemed.

"Vader, have you not yet visited the bridge?" Palpatine's aspirate, ancient voice posed the question as gently as his corroded vocal folds could manage. There was no real gentleness behind it; it wasn't meant to be a question he could answer.

"No, my Lord."

"Moff Tarkin, tell Lord Vader about this glorious triumph he is witnessing."

The gray-clad Moff obediently took his place beside Vader and began prattling off statistics and figures, all concerning the unconscionable power of the Death Star. 

"It is by far the most advanced battle station to have been built. We are charting new territory in weapons technology and hyperspace manipulation - it is all groundbreaking and will undoubtedly secure the Empire's victory over any rebellious systems."

"And to what planet will go the honor of being our first test subject once the weapon is fully operational, Moff Tarkin?"  
Tarkin's jaw worked for a brief moment before answering, perhaps a little too hastily; "Alderaan, your Highness."

Three more gentle raps with the cane on the deck brought every ambient sound in the room to a grinding halt. Someone could have dropped a hydrospanner in the docking bay and it could have been heard clearly from the bridge. Even the deck officers had ceased their work.

Vader was speechless. This is how Palpatine was exerting control - how he would ensure that his obsidian warrior never strayed from his duty to his Emperor or to the Empire again.

"Isn't it wonderful, Lord Vader? What a message Alderaan's destruction will send."

Silence. Vader's mechanized breathing was the only sound that could be heard. His mind raced, his chest heaved painfully against the poor fitting plates of his armor. Palpatine knew what this was doing to him, was only testing his loyalty - and he would not falter. Now was not the time.

"Yes." 

His daughter was on Alderaan. Luke's _sister_. His daughter!

"And next", the Emperor threw over his shoulder as he hobbled on his cane out of the bridge, "that dusty old sandpit Tatooine. Never will you find a more wretched cesspool of scum and villainy; wouldn't you agree?"

Vader heard that cackling laughter echo through the bridge as Palpatine left him behind. Tarkin offered a judgmental once-over before returning to his duties. 

He couldn't move, could barely breathe for the hatred growing in his heart. He looked out the viewport, counting the endless stars until he was calm enough to barrel back to his meditation chamber.

_ _ _

 

He decided to let Revilus wait. The boy would kneel for all eternity if it pleased his master, and since he was in a mood to assert dominance over what was _his_ , it seemed appropriate.

"What is thy bidding, my Master?"

Palpatine never tired of hearing it. He squeezed his white palms into the durasteel armrests of his throne until his skin was transluscent - his blue veins poked through his aging flesh. How could this devastatingly perfect, deadly creature still be so enraptured with him? Gone were the days of his silken skin and baritone to match; he wasn't handsome by any galactic standard, and yet he could practically observe lust radiating from Darth Revilus. It was equal parts disturbing and invigorating.

"What did you find, Lord Revilus?"

"A name and a location. 'Rendezvous with Fett on Tatooine'."

"Interesting. 'Fett' is the surname of the genetic template for the clone troopers, correct?"

"Yes, my Master. But what he could possibly have to do with Vader I do not know."

The Emperor rose from his throne, gingerly navigating the steps of his dais to stand before Revilus.

"Rise." The apprentice obeyed, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before the Emperor couldn't stand to meet his apprentice's baleful gaze.

"This is why you must go. It isn't time for Vader to know the truth about young Luke, and my little experiment on the bridge proved quite telling; he knows about the twins. It will take all of the Empire's resources to keep them from him, but their livelihood depends upon you."

"Sith do not spare an enemy's weakness! We must exploit this, Master!"

Palpatine's menacing glare from beneath his shadowed cowl was enough to silence Revilus. "Do not presume to know what the true motivations of a Sith should be. A Sith comes in many forms, with many different skill sets at their disposal - but they stand to be called Sith no matter who they are or what they do."

"Really, Master? Even if they are in love?"

How interesting that the apprentice would stretch beyond his station to use manipulation - the preferred subversive engine of his master. Most impressive - but still insubordinate.

Revilus didn't expect the sharp pang of the Emperor's knotted cane on his shoulder. The large man dropped to his knees, wincing and crying out in pain. Palpatine's reaction was divided evenly between white hot anger at being challenged and the bone-deep regret at harming his beloved protector. 

"You", Sidious groaned. "You will not speak to me that way."

"Just admit it, Master! Say the words!"

Sidious' cane connected with the opposite shoulder. Again, Revilus cried out in pain. Again, the Emperor felt remorse.  
"Please, Master. Tell me that you aren't choosing this ugly vendetta over me! Over _us_!"

The Emperor had turned to resume his place on the throne, but he whirled around and struck forth with a jolt of Force lightning. His voice was somehow audible above the currents of power twisting his apprentice's body and causing him to howl in agony.

"I am eternal, _boy_. The Force is my lover. You were a worthy tool; that is all."

The stench of sizzling flesh filled the throne room, Revilus' semi-conscious moans cutting a path straight to whatever remained of Palpatine's humanity. 

After his understated parlay with Vader, he knew what he had to do. He simply couldn't divide his faltering energies between Vader's meddling and Revilus' petulant fits of entitlement. He had to choose, to stand by his convictions. To stand as Sith.  
He watched Revilus' eyes loll back into his skull and close, complete unconsciousness overtaking him. Palpatine summoned the Red Guard.

"Take him to the med bay and get him into a bacta tank immediately. I want him healed and prepped for departure to Tatooine. Rouse the boy from his medicated coma and get him ready as well - they both leave in forty-eight standard hours."

Palpatine recalled that he had once counseled Padme to 'rip it off like a bacta patch' once, in regards to holding her own in the Senate. Tell them the truth, the whole truth, unadorned and brutally honest. If he were to take his own advice, in this exact juncture he would tell anyone else in his position that they had made a grave mistake. Then again, if Palpatine couldn't have it, Vader certainly couldn't. Kenobi's children would suffer for their father's sins.

An Emperor was above consequences, above repercussions - but not above the damning hellfire of jealousy.


	17. This Crude Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lines drawn in sand are now carved in stone, and all the players retreat to their corners. The Emperor stands alone; Darth Revilus reconciles his past and embraces the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter moves fast - I wanted to experiment with the kind of shotgun activity that we see at the end of _Darth Plagueis_. I think I did a decent job.

For the first time, everything is finally quiet. He is surrounded by warmth, the illusion of safety teasing his perception but the desire for it succeeds in fooling him. He knows what happened, even encased in that viscous fluid. He hangs, suspended and weightless, submitting himself to scrutiny.

He can feel that the thick muscles of his arms and legs are gone now. When he breathes, he can feel that _leanness_ from long ago, before he became the robust enforcer Palpatine had wanted. Sometimes Padme would run one finger down the ridges of his stomach, wordlessly admiring the strength in slight form. He was back there now, and that was okay. He was acclimating himself to the reality of Tatooine; to the reality that either Sheev had never loved him at all, or that he had simply loved too much.

There was constant whispering and hushed tones around him, then the more abrasive vocoders of droids who do not understand things like discretion. The Emperor has no use for droids programmed for etiquette in sick bays. He heard words like 'nerve damage' and 'diminished cognitive capability', but if he stretched himself beyond that limited language and called upon the Force to guide him, he knew it wasn't right. Palpatine wanted him to believe that he was broken, physically and mentally, but such was not the case.

He wasn't always conscious in the bacta tank. There were times when his eyes met those of his Master a little too long beyond the transparasteel of the tank - times when the whithered old man couldn't bear to look at his protege any longer. He was put to sleep and woke again long after Palpatine had gone. They were Nubian ferries passing in the night, making only enough contact to register their existence before drifting away again.

At first, it was upsetting. Revilus - or Anakin, he wasn't sure anymore - longed to only look at his Master, to see his beloved's eyes and to beg forgiveness for the way things ended. He found no mercy, and it took time to move beyond that. It took time to forgive him for that abandonment; but he did. Palpatine was too entrenched in the dark side to know, but Revilus found healing for them both while he hung encased in that blue liquid. Healing not even bacta could perform; a healing power beyond Sith, Jedi, or Empires.

He was ready to be Obi Wan. He was ready to guide Luke, though perhaps not in the way Palpatine wanted him to. A vision in the Force had come to him shortly before he was expelled of his perfect cocoon of healing; a vision that told of a sandy-haired, black-clad Jedi Knight with a green bladed light saber, screaming between the stars in a ship bound for --

 _Yoda._ So he was alive. Revilus buried that secret deep within him, reaching down to the bottom of his consciousness where Palpatine wouldn't dare go anymore.

Perfect.

And then the droids drained the tank, beginning the arduous task of expedited rehabilitation. Revilus was a compliant patient, performing his physical therapy exercises with ease and adapting to his new physique quickly and efficiently.

"Master Luke was taken to Tatooine three standard days ago, Lord Revilus. You required extra attention, and Emperor Palpatine has set your departure for two standard days from now."

The Sith Lord regarded the droid carefully. "When was the last time His Majesty was here?"

"Emperor Palpatine observed your progress two standard days ago. That was his last visit, according to my records."

Revilus nodded. That Palpatine would keep his distance wasn't surprising; there were surely rumors flying around the Death Star about their standoff in the throne room, and the sovereign would be on the offensive. There was another option in getting to his Master, though it would be significantly frowned upon.

"Send for Grand Moff Tarkin. I would speak with him concerning an urgent matter."

"Certainly, my Lord."

If Revilus had to pick one trait he was most taken with, it was Tarkin's speed. He was in the sick bay in less than fifteen minutes.

"My Lord, I am pleasantly surprised to see you active. Welcome back."

"Indeed."

Tarkin appraised the Sith Lord, obviously jarred by the resemblance to Anakin Skywalker - without the muscles and augmented features.

"I know that I look more like Anakin than I have in many years, Moff Tarkin. I trust you will exercise discretion."

"Is there any other way?" Yes; Revilus did indeed appreciate Tarkin's intelligence and cunning. He would miss that.

"Three days from now, I will be on Tatooine and the real work will begin. I wonder, though, what will become of our dear Emperor."

The Eriaduan governor sighed, nearly pinching the bridge of his nose but deciding against it. "He has been difficult to appease of late."

"That's bordering on treason."

"Not at all, m'Lord."

"Then why the melodramatics? The Senate is beyond repair, the Death Star is complete, the Empire has the upper hand. Why is he so afraid?"

Tarkin's eyes gleamed. "Now who is treasonous, my Lord? He will not be who he was without you by his side. That much is evident. It will take time to help him _refocus_."

Revilus thought for a moment, stroking the Kenobi-esque beard he now sported. It was a soothing gesture; no wonder Obi Wan had done it so often. "Do not destroy Alderaan unless Princess Organa is offworld. Take her as a prisoner and keep her here; she'll be safe."

To watch the Grand Moff nearly come undone at the prospect of disobeying a direct order from the Emperor was nearly arousing. "My Lord, it is unwise..."

"It is unwise to allow him free reign at this point. His cruelty is boundless now, and he can't see that he will gain an advantage by dangling her in front of Vader."

Tarkin sucked in a breath. "I will do my best, Lord Revilus. What we are discussing is mutinous, and it could end my career. The only one of us who stands to lose anything is me."

"Then I suggest you exercise the strategic cunning you are known for, Governor. You are dismissed."

A knowing smirk was all Revilus needed in reply, and Tarkin gave it willingly. The Sith was confident that, when the time came, Palpatine would feel as though he had all the control in the galaxy when in fact he had none at all.

_I have beaten you without killing you, my Master. I have done thy bidding._

_ _ _

Vader's eyes opened with a start, the deep meditation into which he slipped suddenly upended by an undeniable feeling of pure dread.

It was all too much. Palpatine's power play on the bridge had compromised his ability to focus on the next steps he would take with Boba Fett, and now he knew where his daughter was but could not get to her. What would he do? Just bound up to the seat of House Organa and demand to rip his child away from the arms of her appointed guardians? Risk the sure and horrific torment that awaited his disobedience?

No. There must be caution; planning, cunning, and absolutely no impulsivity.

There must be patience, and acceptance. This is what life is now - this mask, this suit, this wretched man who courted and dignified the galaxy until such a time as he could sully whatever parts of it were still good.

The retracting arm bent low and secured the black helmet on his scarred scalp. Liberty dies not with thunderous applause, but with the _hiss_ of an airlock.

_ _ _

He sat upon his throne, the trademark black robe hanging off of his weakened frame. He was smaller, weaker, but still determined. Still in control.

The temptation was great, and decadent in its base desire. Still, he would not go to Revilus. He would not give in, he would not falter. What is a Sith who loves? Certainly passion is a cornerstone of the Sith Order, but the passion is to be used for victory and domination; not for pretty words in Nubian spoken in hushed tones between shimmersilk sheets. Leave that tired drivel to the HoloNet stars.

No, and Emperor is to be cunning. An Emperor is to be patient, to be calculating, to be cold.

An Emperor is to be above all things Sith. And there is no love to be found in that most lofty, lonesome office.

He remembered how Padme had wanted to banish that loneliness, if only for a moment, back when he was Chancellor. He remembered how eager Anakin had been to save him from that damning station, trying so hard to rescue him with unfairly pouty lips and baleful eyes.

Emperor Palpatine had never deserved Anakin Skywalker, and he had never deserved Darth Revilus. He deserved nothing but Vader's vacant staring and rhythmic, empty breathing.

He hung his head, utterly defeated.

_ _ _

"You have progressed well, Lord Revilus. Are you prepared for your departure?"

He nodded. Two days of therapy and tests had gone by without much fanfare. "Yes, I believe I am ready."

Tarkin was waiting for him in his empty, undecorated quarters when Revilus was excused from the med bay. "Excuse any intrusion, my Lord. I wanted to see you off."

"Only if you let me shout his name at the end."

Tarkin feigned offense, but had long since adapted to his role as an emotional conduit for the two most powerful men in the galaxy.

"As you wish, Lord Revilus."

_ _ _

Vader took his place beside his Emperor, hands on either side of his utility belt with his legs shoulder width apart. He looked menacing, cruel, and commanding. Palpatine remained unfazed.

"Is the shuttle ready, Vader?"

"Yes, Highness."

"Good. You will escort him to the vessel for his new life."

"Master?"

The cowl jerked to the side as Palpatine whirled to regard him. "I will never be your Master. Go with him. I have matters of greater significance to which I must attend."

They didn't speak after that. Both of them felt the oscillating pulse of his soul grown cold.

_ _ _

"Boba Fett, this will be our final communication for some time. Listen carefully: Threepio, formerly known as Sevens, is being jetisoned to Tatooine in an escape pod. Ensure that he is also in close proximity to Luke at all times - I've a feeling he will be instrumental in the development of Luke's curiosity in me. Do not fail."

Fett fought the urge to roll his eyes. Damned dramatic Sith; he had not failed him yet, and wouldn't do so anytime soon. He'd take the credits and make sure the droid made it to Lars' Moisture Farm safely, but what would an Empire ever want with a damned droid?

_ _ _

_It is at my own peril that I write to warn you of an impending target on Alderaan. As we are former patriots of the Republic, and in an act of goodwill according to our past acquaintance, I must insist that you remain vigilant as to the state of your world's standing in the Empire. Should rebellion break out, I assure you that the Emperor will not hesitate to make an example of your pristine homeworld. Please do not let that happen, and I implore you to be offworld in the event that it does._

_With strength,_

_Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin_

_ _ _

Lord Revilus whispered in Nubian in his sleep; pretty things about snow white hair and pale, crinkled skin. Foolish things about how the Supreme Chancellor used to hum under his breath and would smile so that it would bring Coruscant to its knees to sing his praises.

His Jedi robes hung in his barren quarters, ready for the next day. Ready for Luke, for Leia, and for his own unholy redemption.


	18. It Shall Be No Longer Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader twists the knife after Darth Revilus' fateful departure. The Emperor considers his new position and answers a nearly two decade old question.

Vader had not expected the stirring deep within him as he beheld the man who was once his apprentice. His time in the bacta tank after Palpatine's merciless _behavior modification_ had also included atrophy reagents - gone were the thick cords of muscle that had caused him to be unrecognizeable. It almost looked like Anakin, but with some very telling differences. Resplendent in Jedi robes of dark brown and a frayed beige tunic, a light saber clipped to his belt and his hair - by the Force, his hair - a perfect wavy likeness of Obi Wan's style during the Clone Wars. Only now, he sported a full beard. Truly, this was torture of the highest order; Palpatine's cruelty knew no bounds.

"So you are to be my imposter?"

"That I am."

"You may pass for Obi Wan Kenobi, but you will never know the peace of the Light."

"You're wrong. My Master has shown me that peace comes from passion, from reconciling our emotions and using them rather than castrating our ability to feel."

"Your Master also nearly killed you in his lust for power. He will only do the same to Luke."

Revilus seemed to chew on that for a moment. The Emperor enjoyed wearing the vanity and devotion of young men, that much was certain; but that wasn't Luke's purpose.

"Luke will not be seduced by Sheev. That honor belongs solely to me."

"Then you truly are lost."

The Sith Lord frowned, his lips a nearly imperceptible line. "You owe me the honor of raising Luke to embrace the dark side, and you owe me the discretion of my illusions. Once I was but a learner, and now I am the master. Of the Empire, of Luke, and of my own destiny."

Vader wasn't quite sure what to say. Part of him wanted to admonish the foolhardy notion that Revilus could be the master of _anything_ , but it was not wise. Besides that, he was right - he did owe the Sith some measure of peace. He was in a coveted position over his old padawan; Vader would remain with Palpatine, and Revilus had to live the remainder of his life knowing that he would never see his lover again.

Even so, Vader realized that from a certain point of view, he was suffering the same fate.

"The Emperor knows that you and I were intimate. He would send you away because I am indispensible. He wants to wound you, Anakin. How can you be so implicit in your refusal to see that?"

"I have accepted the role I am to play. You are railing against it, and your thrashing will only bring you ruin."

"And loving Sheev wouldn't?"

Revilus' blood ran cold. He didn't wait to formulate a response. "How dare you. After all that has happened!" He spat the words at the towering black figure, wishing that those emotionless orbs in his mask would for once appear less vacant. Vader remained taciturn.

"You have taken from me everything I love. You took Padme without a second thought, and you nearly convinced me to betray Palpatine." He began to pace, his robe flowing out behind him with each step. "Everything I held dear, you sought to destroy; but I have the ultimate prize, now. I have _Luke_. And I will train him to rival my own skills until he is strong enough to kill you the way I should have on Mustafar all those years ago."

"That was the way of the light side. It was what you should have chosen, and it's what Luke should choose. If there is any good left in you, relinquish your control of Luke. Defect from this murderous Empire and reclaim your place as a Jedi Knight! It is not too late."

"It is, for me. I serve not the Empire, but my Emperor. My Master; my greatest beacon of passion."

The former Jedi Master inclined his helmet in what was as close as he could get to a nod. "So be it."

As soon as the words were spoken, Vader flicked his wrist and the platform on which Revilus stood began to descend to the main floor of the hangar bay. Their eyes did not part from each other, both men content to hold the other's gaze. There was no malice from either man, but instead a slow, steady current of understanding.

Watching Revilus disappear, however, was the slowest form of torture Vader could think of.

_"You will be a Jedi, Anakin. I promise."_

He had made him a promise that he had not kept - that it was possible even then he had no intention of keeping. There was too much anger in him, but the memory made his broken body scream in pain. _I betrayed you. It is finished._

Vader continued to watch from the observation deck as Lord Revilus, Dark Lord of the Sith was escorted into a stolen freighter. He watched as the nondescript stargazer swiftly exited the hangar and jumped to hyperspace; and then he spun on his heel, black cape a flowing illustration of his rage, and made his way toward the throne room.

_"It is finished."_

That was all he could think of, over and over again. His life spent being near Anakin, Darth Revilus, was now over.

And now he had Palpatine. He had the stars, he had his brokenness, and he had Palpatine.

_ _ _

For as stoic as he was, he couldn't hide his surprise at Vader's summons. Typically a couple of standard weeks could go by without Fett having to listen to that mechanized breathing and laughably ancient diction, but the Sith Lord couldn't help himself. Whoever Luke was, he was important enough to warrant a second transmission in as many days. Boba knew it was risky, not just on his end but Jabba would become suspicious that he wasn't the Mandalorian's main employer and start snooping around.

And Hutts were difficult to kill - especially that one.

"Yes, m'Lord?"

"I have another name for you."

"You're racking up quite a bill." Maybe it wasn't the appropriate time to jest, but the moment seemed to require levity. Vader seemed a bit... _off_.

"The Empire's resources are endless. The man's name is Ben Kenobi."

Boba Fett leaned back in the pilot's chair of _Slave I_ , pretending to consider. "'Kenobi'." He said the name out loud, rubbing his temples and swallowing the rage gathering in his throat. There was no way it _wasn't_ the same man. "I watch him personally for half my usual rate. Jabba gets nothing, and we play by my rules." Damn, was it ever hard to iron the desperation out of his voice. Vader didn't seem to pick up on it, but a Sith Lord could read emotions, couldn't he?

"Very well. He is a secondary target, but if he is of such importance to you, consider your dominion over him the other half of your rate."

"It's a deal."

_ _ _

Sheev Palpatine was not a man anymore. It was possible that he had surrendered his nobility and his humanity when Mace Windu stormed his office, the night Coruscant was ablaze with rage and justice. To what end had that transpired, though? For his own sake, certainly; he had needed to _tie up loose ends_ , to take care of business. He was so focused on the Empire that he had forgotten he was made of flesh and bone.

And then his skin became sagging and sallow, and years after that night in his old crimson office his desire for Darth Revilus had been tamed to a dull twitch every fortnight when he was particularly nostalgic. _"This is what happens when one uses their body as a conduit for dark side energies"_. It hadn't been necessary, he could have just let Anakin kill Windu and be done with it - that display had been pure dramatic posturing and he knew it.

The truth was that he had done it on purpose. It had been his last weapon against falling into his love for Revilus, his last defensive tactic before surrendering his Sith legacy completely for that moppy headed Jedi. He had made himself impregnable with physical deformity and _still_. _**Still.**_

He had never stopped wanting him. Sometimes, when a reflective surface of the high-gloss matte finishes of the bulwarks caught him in just the right way, the seductive low light almost made him look as he had. He missed it, sometimes. Missed the way Anakin's lips used to float over his creamy white skin; no wrinkles, just the smooth unadulterated beauty afforded nobility.

It was over. He had felt Revilus' presence dissipate like a vapor; strong and pungent one moment, alluring and intoxicating and **untraceably gone** the next. It was agony. It was unconscionable agony.

Sheev Palpatine muttered to himself in Nubian, the lyrics of some old aria about a farmhand and a noblewoman making love on the lakeshore. When Vader overheard him and tilted his helmet as if to inquire after the sovereign's sanity, Emperor Palpatine replied with a look that could have melted cortosis.

_What is thy bidding, my Master?_

_That I would look upon you once more and be at rest, apprentice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I depress myself when I write Palpatine.
> 
> ugh. UGH.


	19. Under Three Moons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darth Revilus is reunited with someone from his past; someone who knows about his relationship with Palpatine, and offers discretion all the same. Luke begins to feel a distinct pull. Life on Tatooine settles into a comfortable rhythm.

Home.

Ghomrassen, Guermessa, and Chenini were clearly visible and twisting around each other in the waning light like three lovers shifting and coiling together in the same small bed. When he was a boy, he would walk to the Slave Quarter from Watto's shop and frequently trip on his own feet watching the moons curl around each other when the suns began to set. He would watch the three moons rise higher until the stars came out and seemed to beckon that he take his place among them. The only thing he felt as he looked up now was contentment. He did not need the stars anymore.

The Quarter had been demolished and rebuilt anew, but it was still a slum. As he walked passed, he willed himself to look at the door. Stopping, he regarded the worn edifice of his old home. He considered his position for a moment before waving a hesitant palm in front of the locking mechanism, opening it immediately with a subtle Force push.

It was empty. Dust clung to the corners, the smell of age and slight decay permeating the old house. Had it not been leased since Shmi had gone to marry that moisture farmer? He gingerly walked to his old room, peeking around corners cautiously. He knew that no one was there, hadn't been there in a long time - but he still felt as though he were being watched. Appraised, even.

His room was just as decrepit as the rest of the small space, but this is where his life had begun. This is where he had learned that he was to become a Jedi, and he barreled toward that fate with youthful enthusiasm and its close cousin naiveté. This was where his life began, but if he had known what was to come, would he have ever left?

Walking back out into the cold night was sobering. He didn't miss Sheev, not really. They were fire and oil together, one egging on and the other consuming, but apart they were neutral. They were just two elements, now. Half a galaxy away. With _Vader_.

"I'd recognize those eyes anywhere. You're not fooling me; followed you from Mos Eisley. I had to know it was you."

Revilus' head snapped to the direction of the voice, immediately recognizing its timbre while his blood ran cold. "Owen."

The farmer nodded. "Been a while."

"I guess so."

Middle age had already begun to set in, though it was disturbing considering they were only five years apart. Stubble dotted his face, a decidedly prominent potbelly pushing against a broad utility belt. His hair was already flecked with silver. "The years haven't been kind to you, Owen."

He smiled slightly, looking out over the endless wastelands before them. Even at night, one could see forever, beyond the Jundland Wastes and whatever could be out there. Krayt, maybe. Tuskan Raiders for sure. Carnivorous Jawas.

"How have you fared with the Empire?"

"There was a drought. Almost lost the farm."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

The two men walked together for a time, wordlessly making decisions about their shared plight. "I may only be a farmer, but I'm not stupid. I know who Luke is. I know what the Empire wants from him."

"He will destroy Vader and take his place alongside the Emperor."

Lars sighed, his eyes narrowed, remitting defeat. "There's little I can do to stop that?"

"Nothing."

Owen faced Anakin then, looking beyond the beard and the facade. "The Jedi ruined you. Took a good boy with potential and made him deny who he was. If you'd been comfortable casting your lot with them, you wouldn't have slaughtered that camp of Tuskens." Revilus didn't move. "I won't let Luke become a Jedi like his father, but I'll be damned before I let him ascend to the service of the man who took whatever pride the Jedi didn't get from you."

Anakin's jaw crunched, his voice a grinding grumble. "How do you -"

"I watch the HoloNet. When you rescued the good Chancellor and he gave that address to Coruscant, could you not hear his tears? Even a simple farmboy like me noticed that."

He nodded once more, pulling up the belt around his tunic. "Welcome back to Tatooine, Anakin."

Revilus was too shocked to move immediately, waiting until Owen Lars was out of sight before he set off toward his speeder and ultimately his new domicile. He knew that Owen wouldn't say anything - a moisture farmer couldn't be bothered with politics and intrigue, there weren't enough hours in the day - but he would practice caution all the same. Obviously townsfolk knew there was a stranger in town, and Owen had always been the curious type. His curiosity was adequately sated, and so he would retreat to his life; and Revilus to his own. Whatever that might look like now.

He realized suddenly that he had forever to decide.

The last time he piloted a speeder on Tatooine, he was Darth Revilus. The title and position had meant so much to him then, but now that station seemed as far away as his pining for Palpatine. It seemed like it had all been a vivid dream, and that this was actually where he was meant to be. Suddenly, a certain peace he had no experienced since his days meditating in the Jedi Temple washed over him, blanketing him in sureness.

He had adulated Sheev to godhood, and perhaps that had been a mistake. His love for Obi Wan had developed steadily over many years, but his lust for the Supreme Chancellor had been a sudden requisition that had left his mind and body yearning. And wasn't that the perfect illustration for the workings of the dark versus the light sides of the Force? The dark side is unbridled passion, unchecked and infinite lust; the light side is a gradual illumination, grown from honor and integrity.

Then again, there hadn't been integrity, had there? Kenobi had unapologetically impregnated Padme, gone against every tenet of the Order and nearly killed his own apprentice in order to cover it up. In the process he imprisoned himself, both literally and symbolically, in black armor and the relentless grip of the Emperor. Was he the one who had lost the most in all of this? Revilus missed his mother, had blanched at Owen's recollection of the massacre he had unleashed upon her death. He too had lost everything: Shmi, Padme, Obi Wan, and Sheev.

The stronghold where he was to make his home loomed in front of him, the simple desert architecture a stark contrast to the sprawling opulence of the Imperial Center, even his quarters aboard the Death Star. Surely, away from the trappings of rank and comfort, he would be able to meditate and learn where he had gone wrong. Here he would be able to devote himself to guiding Luke from afar, and perhaps in that close relationship he would regain some sense of family - something he had long since lost during his tenure in the Empire as Palpatine's devoted apprentice. Sheev had become less demonstrative as he aged, his ascent to power being the only thing he truly craved. Sins of the flesh were a distraction.

Revilus felt again that he was being watched somehow, even out on the edge of the Jundland Wastes. It wasn't a definitive physical presence he was feeling, and it _pulsed_ ; it was almost as if the sensation itself were sentient, aware, and horribly longing. It wasn't a prohibitive sense, just something that stopped him and gave him pause. This was the second such encounter with it since he had landed on Tatooine, and he had resolved to make a note whenever it occurred.

The small shelter was sparsely decorated, really only containing the things he brought with him from his personal quarters on the Death Star, several fuel cells for his speeder, and probably two-thousand flimsiplasts. He had chanced recognition in Mos Eisley already to acquire food, water, and the proper hookups for the fresher. It was far from what he was used to, but his previous experience living in squallor had prepared him for a smooth transition.

His fresher wasn't large, only containing one small bathing stall and a toilet whose flush was slower than a Hutt in molasses. The mirror's sheen was the perpetual sand and grime of the desert, but he could see himself well enough to shave and preen. Not that he needed to. As Palpatine had told him, he only needed to bear a passing likeness to Obi Wan.

The bedroom, kitchen, and modest sitting area were not divided by walls, but partial partitions of loose masonry. His bed was surprisingly comfortable, but cold during the long nights. He had arrived in the middle of winter, when fifty standard was cold and unyielding. He slept only when memories of a body unmarred by Force corruption slid against his own. Palpatine had been surprisingly warm; probably due in part to being wrapped in expensive Nubian and Sullustan silks and luxuriant fabrics.

He only recalled the parts of Palpatine that came before the dry, sunken longing of the Emperor. He recalled these things in the night, and when he did, that sentient sensation ebbed a bit. When it did, Revilus felt a peace he had only experienced in the Temple with Obi Wan.

At night, the Light took him bit by bit; sucked that seduction out of him like a poison until all that was left was forgiveness. That sentient feeling became nearly mute.

_ _ _

Luke didn't know what to think of Revilus. He remembered who he was, but most of his experiences revolved around Vader. The bearded faux Jedi didn't come to the farm often, and his uncle usually took care of whatever business they discussed - and it usually left his robust uncle looking pale and defeated. He got up the courage to ask him one day during the evening meal.

Aunt Beru was pouring blue milk - Luke's favorite - into a small carafe. That he asked while she was doing so had been a major miscalculation in judgement.

"What do you and that Jedi talk about?"

Owen cleared his throat, carefully chewing and swallowing his mouthful of Bantha venison. "He knew your father. Trained with him."

Beru eyed her husband ruefully. "That wasn't much of an answer."

The farmer shoved the plate away from him, his typically remarkable appetite suddenly reduced to nausea. "He wants to make sure Luke is taken care of."

"Well, what's his name?"

"Ben. His name is Ben, and that's the last time we discuss it. Got it?"

Luke looked down at his own food, rolling the name around in his mind. _Ben._.

"He's an eccentric old man. Relic of the Clone Wars, lives out on the edge of the dune. Stay away from him."

The rest of the evening continued without interruption, Owen Lars complaining about vaporizers and the disappointing protocol droid with faulty programming. "We're going to need to trade with those Jawas soon, and you need to clean the compressors. Farm's still going to shit after the drought."

He cleaned the compressors and listened to his uncle air grievances about droids and hired hands for over a decade. He looked at the model T-16 skyhopper and the model TIE Fighter sitting on the shelf above his bed. In his dreams, he heard snow sizzling on a light saber that glowed blue. He watched Ben's brief and curt discussions with his uncle, and he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hollerrrrr at Wookieepedia for the names of Tatooine's three moons and some basic historical information. I think I've crossed over into full Nerd.


	20. Flesh As Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Palpatine dies slowly and without his knowledge. Vader ends the the cycle by embracing the dark side, and balance is finally restored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for coming along on this journey with me. I had no idea that, when I started writing this thing, people would actually ENJOY it and want more! Further, I am blown away by the views, kudos, and well wishes. I'm glad that this one is finished, though it took me a long time to be okay enough to write the final chapter. This was my first novel-length project, and thus a labor of love -- even if it's only fanfiction.

**Several standard years later...**

Palpatine's memory did not often stretch back to the time of the Republic and the Clone Wars, but when it did he thought often about the only attempt on his life. It had failed, obviously, but it wouldn't have if not for Anakin.

They had attended an opera gala together, which the young Jedi Knight had almost ruined by meticulously and exasperatingly arranging 'adequate security'. The painstakingly obsessive attention to minute details had infuriated him at the time, but when he felt his heart stop after sipping some drugged Corellian brandy, he distinctly remembered silently thanking Anakin.

He had died, actually. Medical droids determined that the extract of Sullustan nightshade wasn't potent enough to kill the Chancellor outright, but the truth was that the dark side had saved him. Well - the dark side and one other thing. The ancient Sith sorcery Palpatine had used to start his heart once more could be largely credited for the fact that he still lived. Now that he had plenty of time to sit alone in his throne room and ruminate on the past, he realized that the other reason he was still alive was _Anakin_. Revilus. The sensation of that cold, heavy muscle in his chest had only gone away when he imagined that he would never kiss him again.

By sending Vader as his proxy to watch Revilus' departure, he was sparing himself the anguish of experiencing that sensation again. There was no Sith incantation for starting his heart again after what that sight would have done to him.

He had felt his strength return somewhat in the days immediately following Darth Revilus' departure. When he looked in the fresher of his mirror, he could have sworn that the wrinkles he had worn for over a decade weren't as deep. His knees creaked less, his steps taken with more surety than ever before. His place in the galaxy was known to him in its entirety now, and he knew where he belonged. Tarkin and the other Moffs were more responsive, less argumentative, and worked together. For the first time since living in his luxuriant senatorial apartments on Coruscant, the Emperor was _relaxed_. The illusion didn't last long.

Like the Sullustan nightshade, the potency of Anakin's absence was only felt with the passage of time. The dark side, for all its promising ability to turn what is inconvenient into something useful, was not helpful in this case. Palpatine hadn't the first clue that, slowly, his apprentice's absence was killing him. It would take years, perhaps even decades, but eventually that severed connection would whittle him down to an even smaller version of the scarred, melted man he had become. As time passed, the Moffs quarreled endlessly; the Imperial Senate insisted upon existing by a frustrating, miniscule thread; planets whose governments refused to be acquired by the Empire struck out with rebellions of their own, the body count piling up until Palpatine honestly asked himself if it was worth the trouble to rule over all men, all words, and all beasts.

He isolated himself in the throne room, burying his consciousness deep into memories of Anakin - of Coruscant, of their time together. He encapsulated himself in memories erotic, feeding off of their lust and desperation so that he could barely maintain the appearance of strength.

At some point, several years after Darth Revilus left, Sheev lost his voice entirely. His vocal folds literally atrophied, shriveled, and hung limply in his throat. Again, the Sith Lord had to call upon the dark side so that he could speak at all; which only aged him more, pushing him closer to complete ruin. He had begun to realize by then that he was losing his agency as a direct result of casting out his apprentice, but he persisted. He could not, _would not_ , love Anakin Skywalker.

There was that pesky, growing sensation that Revilus had given himself over to the Light during that time. He found that he could no longer throw his soul across the stars to that little hut on Tatooine; he discovered that, after several years, Anakin didn't even want it there anymore. Had he known that it was Palpatine? His Master? Would he have allowed his grieving spirit to stay with him if he had known?

He retracted his longing pulsations, and then he lost half of his sight. The knotted cane he had used as a prop (didn't every beleaguered old man need something to lean on?) was suddenly crucial to allowing him to navigate anywhere safely by foot. Well, obviously the dark side aided him as well. His skin, unbeknownst to him, had become increasingly pallid. 'Two shades grayer', whispered the Moffs. Rather than the swift retaliation they were expecting, the Emperor only watched their lips move -- for he could no longer hear without the aid of the dark side.

In everything, his very life depended upon clinging to his sorcery and magic so dark his body ceased to work under its own power at all.

Of course no one knew of Palpatine's decline. Vader had some niggling suspicion that something wasn't quite right, but the clunky cyborg couldn't be expected to coax his own Force sensitivity far enough to pin down the reason for his unease. The black-clad angel of death had long since been lost to the dark side, himself; and that part of the Force did not concern itself with healing. Only destruction.

Sheev languished for years in a state of half life, what little thoughts he was still able to pin down ruled by sensory memories; skin against skin, hot and eager breath on his neck; the deliciously torturous sensation of Anakin nearly tearing him open with his size and enthusiasm.

Of once whispering into his ear as the WeatherNet just began to dictate rain: _"Ani, I... I cannot live without you."_

Not even his grasp of the Force could help him to foretell how true that would be.

_ _ _

"The circle is now complete."

Their lightsabers hummed, red teasing blue. There was no Light in Vader any longer; Anakin could feel it. He was a twisted, demented hunk of machinery with only a faint outline of flesh. An unrecognizable monument to all their sins, Darth Vader had become the weapon Palpatine had always wanted him to be. Anakin's heart sank.

"If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

Suddenly, that sentient and formless presence he had felt when he first arrived on Tatooine became unbearably strong, its intensity reverberating between the durasteel bulkheads. He glanced at Vader, but there was no change in his body language. Whatever it was, he was impervious to it.

_I... Anakin!_

Anakin Skywalker knew what it was. He raised his lightsaber, its blade vertically bisecting him in a movement of supplication. He closed his eyes.

Vader did not hesitate; as soon as the crimson blade passed through Anakin, he disappeared and became one with the Force. Off in the distance, he heard Luke scream.

**_"BEN! NO!"_ **

_ _ _

Palpatine tasted blood as he withdrew his mind from Anakin's. He was gone.

The muscles in his face spasmed and went slack.

"Nightshade", a voice he didn't recognize as his own whispered furtively. "An -- Ana -- Anakin."

Sheev Palpatine's heart stopped. The incantations were a patchwork solution, and his heart never actually pumped blood after that day. It was the first of his major organs to stop.

_ _ _

The blood in his veins turned black and thick. His skin was leathery and completely devoid of moisture. He was no longer human.

Vader took his place by Emperor Palpatine's side, the pressure on his knees an insurmountable torment with the added weight of the machinery upon which he depended to keep him alive.

"See this symbolic picture of our perfect devotion, Vader? To whom do we owe our continued presence on the mortal plane?"

"The dark side."

Palpatine nodded, satisfied - the answer was banal, but it was acceptable.

A thought occurred to the black beast. Perhaps it was time that the Emperor knew that he was just as weak as Anakin had been.

Slowly, regally, he made a show of kneeling in front of the seated sovereign, who looked on at the display with the beginning of a smirk. His eyebrow raised, the question just beginning to form on those cracked, purple, dehydrated lips.

There was time enough for a breath, and then:

"What is thy _bidding, my Master?"_

Palpatine wailed, his mouth growing larger with each oscillation.

Vader was satisfied.


End file.
